To save content items to your account,
please confirm that you agree to abide by our usage policies.
If this is the first time you use this feature, you will be asked to authorise Cambridge Core to connect with your account.
Find out more about saving content to .
To save content items to your Kindle, first ensure no-reply@cambridge.org
is added to your Approved Personal Document E-mail List under your Personal Document Settings
on the Manage Your Content and Devices page of your Amazon account. Then enter the ‘name’ part
of your Kindle email address below.
Find out more about saving to your Kindle.
Note you can select to save to either the @free.kindle.com or @kindle.com variations.
‘@free.kindle.com’ emails are free but can only be saved to your device when it is connected to wi-fi.
‘@kindle.com’ emails can be delivered even when you are not connected to wi-fi, but note that service fees apply.
This chapter turns to Abdulrazak Gurnah’s Swahili coast narratives, focusing on his novel Desertion (2005), which tells stories about interracial intimacies between Indian, Swahili, and European characters across multiple generations in colonial and postcolonial periods. In the nineteenth century, colonial debates on Indian emigration to Africa insisted on a clear racial separation between “native” Africans and Indian “settlers.” Late twentieth-century East African nationalist discourses reproduced this racialized indigeneity as national identity. Gurnah’s critique of this racial nationalism lies in the novel’s experimental aesthetics, which involve perspectival storytelling, nested stories, and inclusion of multiple genres. The novel’s layered narration gives expression to abject, repressed Indian Ocean intimacies, reconfiguring colonial models of racial encounter as part of the longer history of migration and exchange in Indian Ocean. The melancholic return of Indian Ocean affiliations troubles both the racial-dystopic conception of nationhood in postcolonial East Africa and the utopic imagining of a multiracial community of the past or future.
This chapter considers the ambiguous utopian impulses of literary, filmic, and television works published and produced in the 1970s. Drawing on the concept of post-imperial melancholy, the chapter traces the utopian contours of these texts’ forceful, often shocking, critique of British imperial nostalgia. It focuses on sub-genres that emerged during this significant decade, including the British alternate history, the dystopia, and reworkings of the classical literary utopia, with reference to writers such as Daphne Du Maurier, Len Deighton, Anthony Burgess, Emma Tennant, Angela Carter, and J. G. Ballard. These three genres, the chapter argues, critically interrogate the utopian impulse in the 1970s and its possible instantiations in national and transnational imagined communities, as well as the built environment in which the modernity of these communities is expressed. The chapter concludes with an analysis of Derek Jarman’s Jubilee, identifying how this iconic 1970s punk film reframes the classical narrative structure of literary utopias.
Several contemporary works of Afro-Asian fiction turn simultaneously to the past and the ocean to challenge ethnically exclusive, territorial models of national belonging in the present, generating alternative cartographies interlinking the Indian Ocean world. This means the past is not simply a background against which their narratives unfold—that is, their historical setting—but the past itself functions as an intertext through which an Indian Ocean world gets reimagined. The Introduction examines the rhetoric of loss and recovery in Indian Ocean discourses as a way to theorize the Indian Ocean as a spatio-temporal scale for analyzing literature’s relationship to the past. It explicates the term “anarchival drift” as a self-reflexive mode of addressing the past in Afro-Asian fiction. This historical orientation in literature is not driven by a nostalgic desire to recover the past but rather it serves to excavate the historicity of the present. The chapter illustrates this through a reading of romance and history in Amitav Ghosh’s In an Antique Land (1992).
The Coda foregrounds the literary implications of the book’s argument by reflecting on the idea of the Indian Ocean as a comparative literary space. Through an example from Yvonne Owuor’s The Dragonfly Sea (2019), it illustrates a comparative practice wherein the historical, the geopolitical, and the literary come together. The mutual imbrication of the geopolitical and the literary in contemporary Afro-Asian fiction generates the Indian Ocean as a space of comparison where historical relationalities become legible within the exigencies of the present.
The Indian Ocean has long connected people, objects, and ideas across continents and cultures. This book asks how contemporary writers reimagine the Indian Ocean through literary figurations of the past. In doing so, it offers an oceanic perspective for rethinking the paradigms of postcolonialism by way of rich historical context and intertextual readings of Afro-Asian fiction. Drawing on historiographical research, archival theory, and literary analysis, this book explores how writers including Amitav Ghosh, Abdulrazak Gurnah, Sophia Mustafa, Ananda Devi, Shenaz Patel, and Barlen Pyamootoo imaginatively probe the historical and cultural legacies of transoceanic pasts within the political contradictions and identarian divisions of the postcolonial present. Traveling between South Asia and Eastern Africa and between the past and the present through literary, filmic, theoretical, and archival texts, this book contends that any understanding of South Asian or African present is incomplete without a consideration of their entangled pasts.
This conclusion explores whether nostalgia can exist in postcolonial literatures, burdened as they are by traumatic histories of imperial oppression, by examining the St. Lucian poet Derek Walcott’s variation on Homeric epic, Omeros. Is nostalgia no longer relevant when a culture’s past is cut off by violence and the lost homeland cannot be restored? Or can longing for the irrecoverable past be part of a creative response to problematic histories? This inquiry crystalizes a central aim of the project: to show how nostalgia can be a means of reimagining the national past, an inclusive way of expressing commitment to a particular culture.
This chapter examines the “verse politics” of eighteenth-century Asia. It explores how Anglophone authors used epics and ruin poetry to advance imperialism, assess governmental policy, and reimagine the role of India in the British Empire. To demonstrate poetry’s role in politics and imperial policymaking, this chapter focuses on the career of Eyles Irwin, a colonial administrator stationed in Madras during the 1770s and 1780s and one of the earliest authors to publish English poetry while in India. The chapter analyzes his collection of travel poems, the Occasional Epistles (1783), and his lengthy poetic epistle, “The Ruins of Madura, or, the Hindoo Garden” (c. 1785–92), which versifies the holy sites and gardens of an ancient southern Indian city, Madura (Madurai), and the decayed palace of one of its Hindu rulers, Tirumala Nayaka. From these details, and Madura’s ruins, Irwin reanimates a South Indian culture and polity. Epics and ruin poetry reimagined writing about empire not as an attempt at personal fame but as an extension of imperial policy, and in ruin poetry Anglophone authors sought to reconcile the obvious oppression of India with the supposed liberty of Britain’s empire.
This shorter chapter focuses on one groundbreaking bio-psycho-social network meta-study related to historical trauma in the virtual absence of social science studies. It centers on studies on health and associated health disparities in diaspora populations with migrants from India and Pakistan of the second and third generations. Topics are suicide rates of South Asian women, somatoform symptoms and disorders, and physical health conditions like cardiovascular disease and type 2 diabetes. In addition, an anthology is included on psychiatric, historical, and literary science case studies in which one chapter analyzes the metaphorical use of ‘madness’ as a description of the historical events. It presents small-scale studies from microeconomics on the impact of education, the autoethnography of cultural mourning, and a psychological experiment that examines social identity theory in relation to mutual rejection between Hindus and Muslims. As potential remedies, various forms of commemoration are examined, as they have evolved in India and in the diaspora over the last decade.
The epilogue returns to the major themes discussed throughout the book. In addition, it examines the contemporaneous nature of Ghana–Russian relations, particularly through the lens of anti-Black violence and Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2021. It also looks at the continued contestation between Ghanaians abroad and the embassy in Russia and Ghanaians’ use of protest domestically to seek better rights and economic benefits. The epilogue demonstrates that while Nkrumah and the explicit debates and discourses on socialism that consumed Ghana in the 1960s have almost vanished, that their ghosts continue to shape Ghanaian society.
This Epilogue documents the colonial coal regime’s struggle for survival during the twilight of French colonialism in Indochina. It also examines the closure and decolonization of large-scale coal mining enterprises and discusses the legacy of coal mining in postcolonial Vietnam.
This chapter considers how colonialism (and its legacy in the postcolonial period) has influenced the articulation of the geographical space of Algiers as a lieu de mémoire in works of fiction written by contemporary Algerian authors of French expression. “Under what historical conditions is a city, and a postcolonial city at that, transformed into a ‘site of memory’?” asks scholar Réda Bensmaïa referring to Algiers. Is Pierre Nora’s les lieux de mémoire framework valid for the colonized as well as the colonizer? From 1962 forward, Algerian authors of French expression have sought to identify spaces that they thought necessary for the progress of the postcolonial nation. For authors such as Kateb Yacine, Rachid Boudjedra, and Assia Djebar, remembering and memory are essential to building national postcolonial identity. These authors were born post-1962 and reside for the most part in Algeria. The chapter studies Samir Toumi’s Alger, le cri (2013) and Kaouther Adimi’s Nos richesses (2017) for what they say about the legacies of colonialism, the Revolution, and the more recent civil war of the 1990s to early 2000s.
This article is a case study of the Kasarani Stadium in Kenya as a heuristic through which to understand President Daniel Arap Moi’s political style and priorities during the first decade of his regime. Drawing primarily from national and international newspapers, the archives of national and international sporting organizations and associations, records of the Kenyan government and biographies of Moi, I explore how Moi gave political meaning to sport to advance his populist politics at home and project Kenya on(to) the international stage. At home, he used sports to define himself as a leader of the ordinary mwananchi (citizen), in touch with the experiences, challenges, and visions of the common Kenyan. Internationally, he used sports to chart Kenya’s foreign policy and fashion himself as an international political personality. The article concludes that the study of sports and sporting infrastructure offers a productive way to write social, political, and cultural histories of postcolonial Africa.
Independent Christian Churches were an important aspect of African anticolonial activism, but the political afterlives of these movements in the immediate postcolonial period have been broadly overlooked. This article studies the African Independent Pentecostal Church, focusing on its entanglement with the politics of reconciliation and state-building in a decolonising Kenya. During the 1950s Mau Mau uprising, the church lost its entire portfolio of land, churches, and schools. The article explores how church adherents sought to re-establish themselves on these holdings. These contests reveal that churches were political agents engaged in debates about the boundaries of postcolonial political community and the nature of post-conflict reconciliation. Churches’ roles as landowners and education providers meant denominational rivalries masked political struggles over justice for past violations. Embedded in intra-ethnic conflicts, churches negotiated with elites seeking to establish ethnic constituencies. Through this conflict and compromise, the brokered nature of the postcolonial nation-building project is revealed.
In “Realism and the South Asian Novel,” Pranav Jani examines three Anglophone South Asian novels from the turn of the twenty-first century to reveal the complicated relationship between realism and postcoloniality. Often, Anglophone novels after Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children are read as if their postcoloniality implies a postmodernist distancing from realism. But Jani finds that despite their metafictional playfulness and disruption of linear narration, Kamila Shamsie’s Kartography, Shyam Selvadurai’s Funny Boy, and Arundhati Roy’s The God of Small Things offer realist practices that illuminate historical truths about postcolonial South Asia. Rather than being anti-realist, Jani contends, these novels expand the real to include epistemological and self-reflexive processes while they criticize social oppression, elite complicity, sectarian and ethnic violence, caste apartheid, and patriarchy. Like the classic social realist novels of the past, recent Anglophone novels are attentive to questions of power and inequality – even as they experiment with form.
In 2022, the Centre for Global South Asia (CGSA) at Royal Holloway University of London developed a small research project entitled ‘Exhibit Asia’. The aim was to explore the use of exhibitions in nation-making in postcolonial South and East Asia in contrast to the scholarly preoccupation with investigating the region’s history of museums and exhibitions primarily in a colonial context. Its academic outcomes were to be a conference and related publication; but we also wanted our research to be relevant to our students. The resulting intervention in the teaching and learning of history took the form of a curatorial fellowship for an international cohort of ten students from Taiwan, Japan, India, Pakistan and the UK, leading to a co-curated online exhibition. The first section of this article sets out the development, design and delivery of the fellowship and discusses the viability and relevance of such projects. The subsequent three sections are co-authored by several of the participating students. They outline their methods, reflections and learnings; share their insights on the role of exhibitions in perceptions of Asia in the UK today; and analyse responses to ‘Tea and Tigers’, the online exhibition that was the outcome of the fellowship.
This entry in the dossier about Joe Cleary’s Modernism, Empire, World Literature asks questions about it based on recent scholarship by others working with the same key terms. The scholarship of David Damrosch, Franco Moretti, and Mary Burke provides productive interplays with Cleary’s readings, revealing strengths of the current volume as well as sites for further investigation.
Critical stances towards English Medium Instruction (EMI), and to a lesser extent the similar use of French, Portuguese and Spanish Medium Instruction in former colonies of European states, have been growing since ‘independence’ in the 1960s. This discussion contextualises ‘Southern’ critiques of EMI within early decolonial debates, ‘southern multilingualisms’ and ‘transknowledging’ (reciprocal translation and exchange of knowledge), which are often invisibilised in EMI. This is illustrated through critiques in two former British territories: the first, with critiques that circulated in Southern Africa from the 1960s; the second, with critiques that surfaced four decades later in Australia. Whereas EMI is readily recognised in South Africa (with 8 per cent L1 English speakers), Australia (with 250 Aboriginal linguistic communities at colonisation and 250 years of in-migration from all continents) is an EMI context for 23–30 per cent of citizens. Aggressive marketing of Australia as an educational destination for students from the Asia-Pacific amplifies its multilingual and EMI reality in higher education. The critique of EMI includes a history of cognitive capture, debt-trap diplomacy and educational failure. Included are key agents that advance EMI, invisibilise multilingualisms and perpetuate coloniality despite the claims of social justice and access that accompany EMI rationales.
Palliative care, which was formally established in the Global North, is now recognized globally as part of health care. As part of a larger study, we were interested in how decision-makers at a leading hospice in South Africa understood the changing local context and its influence on the delivery of services. We were interested in how the concept of “total pain,” as outlined by Saunders, applies in a very unequal and under-resourced society in the shadow of a long, oppressive colonial, and apartheid past.
Methods
We conducted face-to-face semi-structured interviews with 12 staff at St Luke’s Combined Hospices in Cape Town, South Africa, and analyzed the data following Braun and Clarke’s thematic analysis approach.
Results
Four major themes emerged from the data. First, St Luke’s has faced the challenge of serving a larger and far more diverse population than it had under apartheid. Second, the organization has undergone a process of rethinking holism and holistic services offered to palliative care patients in this context. Third, diversity and cultural sensitivity are key to how services are offered, and finally, the concept of “total pain” in this context is linked to questions of power and empowerment.
Significance of results
This study is small and situated within a particular context, and it is clear that more data are needed. Nevertheless, the study shows that considering the Global South and postcolonial context is important for thinking about total pain and a global system of palliative care which is sensitive to the majority world context.
Although poetic modernism marked the height of Gerard Manley Hopkins’s seminal influence, British, American, and postcolonialist poets around the globe (including in Ireland, Nigeria, Australia, Canada, and the Caribbean) continue to engage intensely with his work. Many have learned to write in their own idiosyncratic voices while honouring or debating with Hopkins, and even while intentionally echoing his innovative techniques or his ecological and spiritual themes. The topic of Hopkins’s poetic legacies is ripe for further scholarly attention. Even a brief assessment of writers he has influenced reveals that his voice has deeply shaped the contours of contemporary anglophone verse.
This Element analyses the autobiographies of historians from a global perspective and looks at all eras, from antiquity to the present day. It includes twenty autobiographies: Caesar's and Lucian of Samosata's memories in antiquity; an autobiography of a medieval king such as Peter IV of Aragon; Vico's, Gibbon's and Adams' intellectual self-accounting in modernity; autobiographical revelations and social activism of twentieth century women historians such as Carolyn Steedman, Jill Conway and Gerda Lerner; classical Chinese and Islamic traditions through the autobiographies of Sima Quian and Ibn Khaldun; the perplexities inherent in the modernisation of Japan (Fukuzawa Yukichi), China (Gu Jiegang), India (Nirad Chaudhuri) and Egypt (Taha Hussein); postmodernists such as Rosenstone; and traumatic postcolonial experiences in Africa (Bethwell Ogot), Latin America (Carlos Eire) and Southeast Asia (Wang Gungwu). This Element proposes a literary and historical approach to these autobiographies, emphasising its historiographical dimension and value.