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 article explores the systems of policing that emerged in the early Cape Colony (1652–1830). Contrary to previous historical scholarship that understood the institution to be largely nonexistent or of marginal importance to the colony’s political economic development, this article argues that the Cape colony’s systems of policing, which doubled as ad hoc military organizations, were not so much weak as privatized. It shows how this persistent tendency was motivated by the Dutch East India Company’s desire to maximize profits—though it manifested differently in different parts of the colony. Moreover, this article demonstrates that the mercantile economy that the company installed at the Cape ensured that private policing would become a vehicle of indigenous dispossession. In doing so, it seeks to contribute to the field of African carceral studies and understandings of processes of racialization in the early Cape.
The right to equality in South African law gives rise to duties borne by both the state and private actors. In the law of succession, this constrains private testators’ powers to discriminate. Doctrinal developments bear this out: in King v De Jager and Wilkinson v Crawford, a majority of the Constitutional Court extended the reach of anti-discrimination duties to private testamentary decisions. I evaluate these judgments through two lenses: a normative lens that focuses on the principled underpinnings of the Court’s approach to substantive equality, autonomy and the public / private divide; and an adjudicative lens that surveys how these duties should be given effect to avoid proliferating parallelism. I argue that the judgments are welcome and confirm that the private sphere is not insulated from demands of equality, but they nevertheless neglect the importance of both equality legislation and a harmonized approach to adjudicating the anti-discrimination duty’s reach into common law.
African newspapers have been the subject of scrutiny from a variety of disciplinary perspectives. However, comparably little attention has been paid to the early visual archives produced by these presses. This essay mines the pages of West African Pilot and other newspapers to explore the genesis of the practice and profession of press photography in Lagos, Nigeria. Over the course of three defining historical moments, press photographs became a record and consequence of the ways that professional, legal, and political contours of visual freedoms were defined in an increasingly anti-colonial city and nation-state.
The “revolutionary script” of Leninism was foundational to how the African Party for the Independence of Guinea and Cabo Verde (PAIGC) and Amilcar Cabral imagined the course of decolonization. Under-utilized archives and party documents highlight that the impact of the political-organizational model of Lenin was an early source of inspiration for PAIGC leaders, a fact which historians have not investigated in detail. The manner in which Leninism influenced the PAIGC was neither linear nor dogmatic, however. Dating from early exposure to Marxist texts in underground study circles to aborted attempts at launching armed struggle, party leaders constantly improvised upon the script with which they based their anti-colonial revolution.
The introductory chapter presents the central themes and framework of the book. It presents the motivations for the study, the main theoretical underpinnings, and the cultural context in which the ethnographic fieldwork took place. The chapter discusses social belonging, prestige and material practices as central in shaping language ideologies and the construction of languages.This is linked to sociological theories of modernity, which have examined the role of social categories in late modern contexts. The latter use the metaphor of ’liquidity’ to emphasise the shifting, context-dependent nature of social categories, while recognising the conditions that temporarily stabilise them. In suggesting the study of how language practices and categories emerge, the chapter situates these processes within broader social structures and power dynamics. This sets the stage for a book that contributes to the decolonisation of linguistics by challenging Eurocentric assumptions and studies language as a socially constructed phenomenon with implications for understanding diversity and social order.
This chapter explores material language practices and their interaction with language ideologies. It investigates how oral, literal, and digital forms co-constitute discourses of normativity and prestige. Through observations of literacy practices, teaching, media, and participants’ reflections, the chapter studies materialisations of language and their ideological implications. The dominance of English writing in formal and institutional contexts contrasts with the variable use of oral Kriol, which resists standardisation. Efforts by the National Kriol Council to create a standardised orthography reveal tensions between fostering linguistic legitimacy and maintaining the anti-standard nature of Kriol. Digital communication amplifies these dynamics, bringing to the fore non-standardised writing that reflects local linguistic realities. Kriol’s oral and multimodal characteristics, perceived as spontaneous, creative, and resistant to disciplinary norms, challenge Western-centric ideologies that prioritise fixed standards. This shows that material language practices are culturally specific. A consideration of the role of materiality in language ideologies challenges universalised epistemologies.
The chapter explores complex ascriptions of linguistic prestige in Belize’s multilingual and postcolonial context. The observations made challenge traditional binary models of overt and covert prestige. English, the former colonizer’s language, holds formal prestige linked to its global status, economic utility, and educational norms. However, this prestige coexists with linguistic insecurity, as many Belizeans combine local and exogenous norms. Conversely, Kriol carries polycentric prestige rooted in national identity, creativity, and resistance to colonial hegemony. It indexes reputation rather than respectability, aligning with Afro-European traditions and anti-standard ideologies. Despite its rise in public and formal domains, Kriol remains ideologically linked to informality, creativity, and resistance. The chapter also highlights the emic construction of ‘code-switching’, valued as the ability to distinguish English from Kriol, reflecting education and social status. This linguistic liquidity – marked by overlapping functions, fluid boundaries, and contradictory discourses – reflects the complex interaction of different forms of prestige in Belize.
This chapter investigates how belonging is constructed through language in Belize. Inspecting linguistic landscapes, interviews, and ethnographic observations, the study reveals the sometimes paradoxical ways languages are ideologically positioned within local, national and transnational contexts. Kriol is central to constructing national belonging and serves as a unifying symbol of a diverse population. It is also tied to racial and transnational belonging, connecting to Afro-Caribbean cultural spaces. Conversely, Spanish is associated with immigration and Guatemala, despite its historical presence and ongoing use. This tension results in contradictory discourses, where Spanish is simultaneously seen as ‘foreign’ and as a home language. English occupies a dual role as both a foreign and national language. While it indexes Belize’s colonial ties and distinguishes Belizeans from their Hispanic neighbours, it is also regarded as essential for education and economic mobility. The chapter concludes that language ideologies and practices do not always align, reflecting the coexistence of diverse historical, social, and political discourses in shaping linguistic belonging in Belize.