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.
For Africa as a continent and its people to experience freedom from Western intellectual bondage, the conceptual framing of African development discourse(s) must be re-grounded within African knowledge systems, values, history and culture, through African agency. Such a shift in thinking will enable Africans to participate actively in shaping their own development as agents, rather than merely existing as objects of the European development story. The colonization of Africa by Europeans has framed Africans as people without any history or knowledge of their own to improve the quality of their own lives. As I have already shown, this view of Africans, held by many European scholars, was used to justify the colonization of both Africa as a continent and its people. As a result, Africa's future development was also placed in the hands of Europeans, who were presented as a perfect model of how development was imagined. Anything that seemed to differ from this view was regarded as a form of backwardness. The idea and practice of development in Africa after World War II (from 1945 onwards) was a continuation of the same colonial pattern of undermining African people's capacity to solve their challenges.
Eurocentrism in Development Studies: From Modernization to Neoliberalism
The fundamental challenge facing Development Studies is how the subject can transcend the limitations created by Western epistemology and open the path for alternative development visions. According to Pieterse, Eurocentrism as a guiding intellectual paradigm has long served the agenda of imperial management of societies labelled part of the ‘Third World’. In this regard, Ndlovu-Gatsheni raises the following fundamental question: ‘What does development mean for a people struggling to emerge and free themselves from the inimical legacies of enslavement, colonialism, imperialism, apartheid, neocolonialism, underdevelopment as well as the imposition of the Washington Consensus and neoliberalism?’ In this context, it is important to interrogate the epistemological foundation that informs the nature and structure of development as a discourse in the Global South, and in Africa in particular. The main challenge facing Development Studies in Africa has been the fact that it is a derivative of Western epistemologies and that it is informed by Western experiences and a Western agenda. Therefore, African scholars face the challenge of decolonizing development theory itself to enable contextual relevance.
This chapter charts an interpretative path to the unfoldment of the international order in the 1950s. The role of ideology was crucial for centralizing power and achieving the mastery of the international order. In spite of the ideological differences that existed between the United States and the Soviet Union, both superpowers applied a managerial approach to the administration of domestic and international affairs, which was ultimately responsible for preventing the onset of disruptive conflict. Both superpowers labored under the assumption that the legacy of World War II demanded the type of management aimed at ensuring the creation of a new humanity, which could be devoid of the aggressive and militaristic instincts of the past. There are, therefore, three main elements that characterized the international order in the 1950s. First, the management of the international order took place as a result of the effective use of ideology as an instrument for order, which entailed limited geopolitical expansion informed by cultural commonality. Second, both superpowers deployed the means to centralize power through an effective bipolar alignment that was underpinned by a scheme of collective security within their respective spheres of influence. Third, the element of geopolitical legitimacy was entrenched by the notion that both the United States and the Soviet Union were working for the betterment of the human condition. This principle consolidated the notion of peaceful coexistence and a rather rigid adherence to the tenets endorsed by both superpowers.
Managing the International Order
The effective management of the international order required the use of ideology as a tool of order. American Exceptionalism and Eurasianism informed the ideological principles that propelled the geostrategic interests of the Soviet Union and the United States in the 1950s. The liberal connotations of American Exceptionalism, and the Communist elements attached to the Eurasianist foreign policy of the Soviet Union, enabled the superpowers to justify political and economic interventions in their respective spheres of influence in the postwar era. Ideology gave shape to the cultural and material scaffolding that sustained the management of the international order in the postwar period. The specific ideological formulation that guided the scheme of foreign policy of the superpowers in the 1950s gave an important measure of predictability to their actions.
Between 1946 and 1949, Wittgenstein occupied himself intensely with the topic of aspect perception, or seeing-as. It is one of his main concerns in the typescripts and manuscripts that have now been published as Remarks on the Philosophy of Psycholog y and Last Writings on the Philosophy of Psycholog y, and it is discussed at considerable length in the selection of remarks Wittgenstein culled from those volumes in 1949 (MS 144; TS 234), which was eventually printed under the (arguably inappropriate) title ‘Part II’ of Philosophical Investigations. Half a century later, it is probably still true to say that ‘Wittgenstein's treatment of aspect perception continues to be one of the least explored and least understood of the major themes in his later philosophy’ (Mulhall 2001, p. 246).
In his 1949 selection, Wittgenstein begins the discussion of aspect perception with the following distinction:
Two uses of the word ‘see’.
The one: ‘What do you see there?’ – ‘I see this’ (and then a description, a drawing, a copy). The other: ‘I see a likeness in these two faces’ – let the man to whom I tell this be seeing the faces as clearly as I do myself.
What is important is the categorial difference between the two ‘objects’ of sight.
I observe a face, and then suddenly notice its likeness to another. I see that it has not changed; and yet I see it differently. I call this experience ‘noticing an aspect’. (PPF §§111, 113; p. 193)
Seeing a likeness between two faces [A], however, is only the first of a number of examples Wittgenstein considers. Others are:
(B) Seeing a geometrical drawing as a glass cube or as an inverted open box, or as three boards forming a solid angle (PPF §116; p. 193); or again, seeing a triangle as a triangular hole, as a solid, as a geometrical drawing; as standing on its base, as hanging from its apex; as a mountain, as a wedge, as an arrow or pointer, as an overturned object which is meant, for example, to stand on the shorter sight of the right angle, as a half parallelogram, etc. (PPF §162; p. 200).
If God had looked into our minds he would not have been able to see there whom we were speaking of. (PPF §284)
If a lion could talk we wouldn't be able to understand it. (PPF §327)
It is important for our approach, that someone may feel concerning certain people that he will never know what goes on inside them. He will never understand them. (Englishwomen for Europeans.) (CV 84 [MS 137, 71; 9.7.1948])
The inner-object conception
The concept of understanding occurs in Wittgenstein's writings first and mainly with respect to language. Understanding is discussed as a correlative to meaning and explanation. Wittgenstein argues against the idea of understanding as an inner process or occurrence – a mental representation of what is understood. Locke presented the view that words have meaning if they are accompanied by a mental image ‘in the mind of him that uses them’ (Locke 1690, 3.2.2). Understanding would then require that the same words are associated with the same images in the mind of the hearer. A little reflection shows, however, that what comes before our minds when we understand a word – a picture or mental image – cannot determine or constitute our understanding of the word, for the same mental image can accompany the hearing of a word in two people when they understand the word very differently (PI §140). They may, for example, both imagine an Alsatian when one of them takes the word in question to mean ‘dog’, while the other understands it to mean ‘Alsatian’. Similarly, the same mental image can accompany our understanding of completely different words, which we know to be different in meaning: thus the word ‘winter’ may make me see the image of a snow-covered street, but the same image may come up in my mind when I hear the words ‘snow’ or ‘Advent’. On the other hand, very often, when I use or understand the word ‘winter’, no such mental imagery occurs (cf. PI §449). Mental images are neither a sufficient nor a necessary condition of understanding.
Conceding that our words are not always accompanied by mental images, one may still be inclined to insist that understanding must consist in some sort of mental representation, whatever it may be. When I understand that something is the case, it would appear that the object of my understanding must somehow be represented in my mind.
In the sections of the Philosophical Investigations commonly known as ‘the private language argument’ (PI §§243ff.), Wittgenstein argues against the idea that sensations, such as pain, are private inner objects accessible only to their owner. This doctrine is, of course, a version of Cartesian dualism, but it is perhaps more illuminatingly called ‘the inner object account’ of sensations. For whereas the label ‘dualism’ emphasises the sharp difference drawn by this theory between the mental and the physical, the main thrust of Wittgenstein's criticism is, on the contrary, that the theory exaggerates the similarities between the two realms: that it misconstrues the grammar of psychological terms by assimilating it too much to the grammar of names of perceptible occurrences in the physical world (cf. Schroeder 2006, pp. 182–5; pp. 201–19).
Wittgenstein's main concern is with the claim that sensations are epistemically private: that ‘only I can know whether I am really in pain’ (PI §246); but he also discusses and dismisses the claim that sensations are essentially owned by a single individual: that ‘another person can't have my pains’ (PI §253). The two are, of course, related. The inner object model construes sensations as particular occurrences in the private realm of the mind – like beetles in a box (cf. PI §293) – and their privacy is seen as a consequence of their unalterable and unsharable location. Only the owner of a consciousness has access to its contents. So, on this view, it is because you cannot have my pain that, strictly speaking, you cannot know of my pain.
This, however, may be denied. Anthony Kenny, for example, is prepared to accept, as a grammatical triviality, that pains are owner-individuated but denies that that makes them private. After all, the same holds for sneezes, blushes or smiles: you cannot have my sneeze, for if you sneeze, it is ipso facto your sneeze and not mine, but of course it doesn't follow that you cannot know of my sneezes (Kenny 1973, p. 189).
But the step from ‘I can't have yours’ to ‘I can't know of yours’ is more easily blocked in the case of sneezes and blushes, which are visible events located in physical space in a way pains are not.
The National Interest and the Geopolitical Dimension
The more that the national interest is rooted in a geopolitical dimension the more likely it is that it will manifest in powerful ways. Isolationism is not a viable option for countries that seek to instill a narrative of greatness at home and abroad. A retreat away from the responsibility to manage the international order is likely to create the conditions for other powers to arise and erode that sense of greatness. The great powers do not have interests that revolve around economic reasons. They are glory seekers, in the words of Italian geopolitician Dario Fabbri.
The way that this manifested in the 1950s was ref lected in the impact that American Exceptionalism and Eurasianism had on creating an indelible mark on the international order. The expansion of American Exceptionalism and Eurasianism was undertaken in the context of changing the complexion of the area of inf luence with whom they shared cultural commonalities. American Exceptionalism profoundly altered the notion of Europeanness, which was imbued with the values of the modern world, namely liberalism. Something similar can be said about the Soviet Union and Eurasianism, in regard to the forms of organization adopted in the Eastern bloc.
The geopolitical dimension is the main way in which prominent states can accomplish their national interest due to the way in which culture and space interact. During the initial period of the Cold War, the interaction between the United States and the Soviet Union demarcated the geostrategic spaces that would enable them to fulfill their most vital interests. The geopolitical perspective explains why the divergence of interests between the superpowers did not result in overt military conflict. The United States and the Soviet Union were not motivated by the same interests. The United States had an expansive approach regarding the management of the international order, which translated into the handling of a common geopolitical space in areas of the world with cultural affinity and complementary economic interest. For the Soviet Union, the main interest was to maintain the vitality of the Communist system at home and to expand that ideology in a careful manner.
As described in the previous chapter, Wittgenstein's discussion of aesthetics and ethics in his lectures in May Term 1933 is prefaced and informed by his new account of meaning as use, which, applied to declarative sentences or propositions, leads to verificationism: ‘If you want to know the meaning of a sentence ask for its verification’ (AL 29). For any predicate ‘F’, you have to consider the language-game and see how it is used, that is, how a claim that something is F could be verified. For what characterises the use of a predicate is that its declarative application can be judged true or false, and that such a judgement can be vindicated or rejected on suitable grounds. Hence, the meaning of such a truth-apt predication is determined by the way its truth or falsity can be ascertained. For example, ‘to explain what is meant by “6 yards” we must shew a man how we measure it’ (M 311). Accordingly, the meaning of the proposition ‘The shed is 6 yards long’ is given by its possible methods of verification (or falsification).
It is worth noting that this core idea of verificationism – that to know the meaning of a predicate is to know how it is used, that is, amongst other things, on what grounds its application can be judged true or false – is indeed just an aspect of the view that meaning is use. Wittgenstein espoused it not only in the early 1930s but to the end of his life. What distinguishes his mature view from the scientistic verificationism of the Vienna Circle is that he came to realise that although there must be grounds for judging the application of a predicate as correct or incorrect, there need not always be methods of objective verification. And yet, in order to clarify the meaning of a predicate, it is always useful to ask if and how its application could be verified. In conversation, he explained that by a simile:
Imagine that there is a town in which the policemen are required to obtain information from each inhabitant, e.g. his age, where he came from, and what work he does. A record is kept of this information and some use is made of it. Occasionally when a policeman questions an inhabitant he discovers that the latter does not do any work.
During the 1950s, the United States would begin to promote a unidirectionality of history, geared toward enabling the United States to prevail in the geopolitical confrontation against the Soviet Union. In order to project the geopolitical power of the United States, there was a need to ensure that the countries affected by the confrontation that emerged in the 1950s would be persuaded about the good intentions of the United States, particularly when it came to promoting the economic and social rehabilitation of vast areas of the world. The 1950s saw the beginning of the idea of a “global commonwealth” of nations, initially restricted to the areas of the world that had a cultural affinity with America, aligned with the geostrategic interests of the United States, and willing to accept the political and economic principles projected from Washington.
Exerting Power and Shaping the Future—A Look at America's Role in the 1950s
The United States played a significant role in the world during the 1950s. After World War II, the United States emerged as one of the two superpowers, along with the Soviet Union. The United States played a leading role in establishing and leading the Western alliance, which was a military alliance between North American and European countries that was formed to counter the Soviet Union's influence in Europe. The United States also played a major role in the Korean War, which took place from 1950 to 1953, and in the Vietnam War, which lasted from the 1950s to the 1970s. During the 1950s, the United States experienced a time of economic prosperity and cultural conformity known as the “American Dream” or the “Affluent Society.” The 1950s also saw the beginning of the Civil Rights Movement, as African Americans and other minority groups in the US began to agitate for equal rights and treatment under the law. In addition to its role on the world stage and its domestic developments, the US also played a major role in shaping popular culture during the 1950s. The decade saw the emergence of rock and roll music, and many iconic cultural figures, such as Elvis Presley, emerged during this time.
Wittgenstein speaks not only of ‘grammatical rules’ but also of ‘grammatical statements’ (or propositions) (grammatische Sätze). The difference between the two concepts is one of perspective. Linguistic meaning can be explained by grammatical rules (or, to take Wittgenstein's own qualifications into account, by expressions of grammatical norms). For example, the meaning of the word ‘bachelor’ can be explained by the grammatical rule:
(1) A bachelor is an unmarried man.
However, when this sentence is not used to teach or to explain but is considered as a statement, Wittgenstein calls it a grammatical statement. After all, we regard it as true that a bachelor is an unmarried man, which makes it more natural to speak of a statement (or proposition) than a rule. It is a statement, but not an empirical statement, not a ‘statement of fact’ (AL 18); it is ‘a statement which no experience will refute’ (AL 16).
In more traditional philosophical terminology, (1) is called an analytic truth or statement. According to the standard definition, analytic statements are true simply in virtue of the meanings of the ingredient words. This definition is naturally suggested by the fact that analytic truths are typically used as linguistic explanations. Instead of
(2) The word ‘cygnet’ means: young swan.
– one can also, and more idiomatically, say:
(3) A cygnet is a young swan.
The two sentences have the same use, fulfil the same function in language and hence have the same meaning. A statement of (2) is true because the word ‘cygnet’ does mean a young swan. That is to say, (2) is true in virtue of the meaning of the word ‘cygnet’. But as (2) functions in the same way as the corresponding analytic statement (3), the same can be said about (3). This too can be verified simply by looking up the meaning of the word ‘cygnet’ in a dictionary. Of course, the truth of (2) and (3) is dependent not only on the meaning of the word ‘cygnet’, but also on the meanings of their other words. If, for example, the word ‘young’ meant ‘black’, the statements would be false. So just like (2), (3) is true in virtue of the meaning of the whole sentence.
Lehasa Moloi is one of those organic intellectuals whose ambition from his youth has been to tackle the issues related to what appears to be lagging material, political and social development of the African continent. Committed to the education of the masses that would include for him an investment in consciousness-raising among young college students, Moloi confronts the challenges of miseducation of the African with a revolutionary pedagogy based on African agency. He rescues us from the dead end of a misguided approach to development. While working on his doctorate with Sabelo Ndlovu-Gatsheni, perhaps the key African decolonial scholar, Moloi began to ask questions that prompted him to consider the historical agency of African people. It was not enough that one identifies and explains the decoloniality of power regarding the vestiges left by colonial oppressions, one had to sift through history to rediscover how Africans had conceived a world of relationships that were authentic and elastic enough to provide stability for thousands of years before the invasions of Europeans and Arabs. c Always ready to honour the academic guidance of Sabelo Ndlovu-Gatsheni, now the Chair of Epistemologies of the Global South at the University of Bayreuth, Moloi sought to take the route of African centeredness where the fundamental puzzle had to be found in how African people approached their own lived experiences in the context of contemporary challenges. In effect, the issues of epistemic freedom, decolonization and decoloniality in regard to ‘development’ had to be questioned from an Afrocentric perspective. What is it to be developed in African eyes? How must one see the constraints, restraints and complaints of Western authorities, whether from the Americas or Europe, about development in Africa?
Moloi has extended the discourse on ‘development’ in an urgent manner by refocusing theory and practice on African culture itself. To fulfil all societal ambitions of ethics, aesthetics, economics, technology and construction, there must be a collective sense of African agency where citizens are engaged in individual and group responses to external situations based on culture. Thus, Lehasa Moloi takes us beyond the destruction of the false facades of Western thinking or Eastern thinking erected to conceal African capabilities.
Typically, an explanation of an event cites the causes that made it happen. According to what has been called the ‘standard view’ in the philosophy of action (cf. Sandis 2009, p. 2), intentional human actions are just a subclass of events, and the agent's reasons are the causes of their actions. In the 1930s this widespread causalism was disputed by Ludwig Wittgenstein, whose alternative view that reason-giving explanations should not be seen as a type of causal explanations held sway in the 1960s. It was defended by Elizabeth Anscombe (1957), Peter Winch (1958), and A.I. Melden (1961) but was then forcefully challenged by Donald Davidson in his influential paper ‘Actions, Reasons, and Causes’ (1963), which by the 1970s had re-established causalism about reasons as the standard view. The standard causalist view, however, has generally been acknowledged to be troubled by a major problem: the problem of deviant causal chains (cf. Moya 1990, pp. 114–28). Davidson himself had confessed not to be able to resolve this problem (1973, p. 79), yet many of his followers remained more optimistic.
A more recent causalist view, propounded, for example, by Carlos Moya (2014, pp. 200–4) and John Hyman (2015, Ch.5), is that the flaw both in Davidson's version of causalism and in the anti-causalism of Wittgenstein and his followers was their commitment to a Humean account of causation as a law-governed relation between events. On Hyman's view, once we accept (i) that one can be immediately aware of causation without having to observe regularities, and (ii) that desires are dispositions, and dispositions can be causal factors too, causalism is safe from Wittgensteinian objections. Moreover, Hyman tries to defuse the problem of deviant causal connections by arguing (i) that it is just a special case of the general difficulty of distinguishing between manifestations of dispositions and mere side effects, and (ii) that it doesn't undermine the causalist construal: for whether its effects are deviant or not, citing a disposition explains them causally in either case (Hyman 2015, p. 116). In this chapter, I shall, after a few preliminary clarifications, re-consider the deviant causal chain problem with those more flexible causalist ideas in mind.