In 1841, the Welsh sent their first missionary, Thomas Jones, to evangelise the tribal peoples of the Khasi Hills of north-east India. This book follows Jones from rural Wales to Cherrapunji, the wettest place on earth and now one of the most Christianised parts of India. It is about the piety and practices, the perceptions and prejudices of people in early nineteenth century Wales. The book is also about the ways in which the religious ambitions of those same people operated upon the lives and ideas of indigenous societies of the distant Khasi Hills of north-eastern India. It foregrounds broader political, scientific, racial and military ideologies that mobilised the Khasi Hills into an interconnected network of imperial control. Its themes are universal: crises of authority, the loneliness of geographical isolation, sexual scandal, greed and exploitation, personal and institutional dogma, individual and group morality. In analysing the individual lives that flash in and out of this history, the book is a performance within the effort to break down the many dimensions of distance that the imperial scene prescribes. It pays attention to a 'networked conception of imperial interconnection'. The book discusses Jones's evangelising among the Khasis as well as his conflicts with church and state authority. It also discusses some aspects of the micro-politics of mission and state in the two decades immediately following Thomas Jones's death. While the Welsh missionary impact was significant, its 'success' or indeed its novelty, needs to be measured against the pre-existing activities of British imperialists.
Hybridity, indigenismo and the discourse of whitening
racialideology that broke free from the European-dependent culture of the
Porfiriato (1876–1910) (Monsiváis, 1976 :
307). However, it has been widely noted that indigenismo was only
ever the ‘fantasy of origin and identity’ of the ruling classes, and that
the political and cultural discourse of indigenismo only paid
lip-service to an imaginary pre-Colombian Mexican past, while ignoring the
humanity’ to stoke the steamers. 28
The inauguration of White Australia ushered in new
state-sanctioned narratives about the relationship between space,
race and labour. Racialideology supporting beliefs that tropical
plantations and steamer stokeholds were not suitable places for
white labour had to shift to accommodate fully White Australia.
Suddenly white men were required to work
Mass migration from Britain to the Commonwealth, 1945–2000
Jean P. Smith
restrictions placed on Commonwealth migration to the United Kingdom from
1962 onward drew on the racialideologies of empire, while at the same
time prioritising the nation at the expense of the imperial or as it was
increasingly re-branded the Commonwealth connection.
Though the immigration policies and practices of these
countries were not identical, and varied over time based on economic and
demand for labor conformed to racialideology. Influenced by scientific racism, the medical examination procedures differed for European, Latin American and Asian immigrants.’ 23
Certainly, there are fundamental differences between the above-mentioned racialised medical controls and discourses and the engagement of medicine in preventing the spread of disease at the European borders in the context of my study. A crucial difference lies in the present ambivalent character of the borders to present sites where human mobility is controlled, and simultaneously
Frantz Fanon's Peau noire, masques blancs (Black Skin, White Masks) was published by the Paris-based publishing house Editions du Seuil in 1952 when Fanon was twenty-seven. This book first develops the theme of the francophone contextualisation of Peau noire by concentrating on the specifically Martinican references in the text which have either been effaced or distorted in subsequent representations of Fanon. By retrieving the specific cultural and historical significance attached to particular linguistic items in the text, the book reveals the unconscious traces of a history which Fanon consciously wants to expunge. It is precisely the question of expunging the past. The book argues that Fanon's desire for a violent rupture with the past and a new beginning rules out the possibility of a Creole conception of Caribbean history and culture associated today with the writers. The book also situates Peau noire in the context of racism in metropolitan France and explores different aspects of Fanon's engagement with Sartre in Peau noire. It focuses specifically on the relationship between anti-Semitism and anti-Black racism, and discusses Fanon's engagement with another of Sartre's texts, 'Orphée noir'. The book further discusses Fanon's engagement with Sartre and the tension between universalism and particularism. Finally, it concentrates on studies of the psychic, existential and political dimensions of racial ideology in Peau noire.
Fifty years ago Enoch Powell made national headlines with his 'Rivers of Blood' speech, warning of an immigrant invasion in the once respectable streets of Wolverhampton. This local fixation brought the Black Country town into the national spotlight, yet Powell's unstable relationship with Wolverhampton has since been overlooked. Drawing from oral history and archival material, this book offers a rich local history through which to investigate the speech, bringing to life the racialised dynamics of space during a critical moment in British history. What was going on beneath the surface in Wolverhampton and how did Powell's constituents respond to this dramatic moment? The research traces the ways in which Powell's words reinvented the town and uncovers highly contested local responses. While Powell left Wolverhampton in 1974, the book returns to the city to explore the collective memories of the speech that continue to reverberate. In a contemporary period of new crisis and division, examining the shadow of Powell allows us to reflect on racism and resistance from 1968 to the present day.
South Africa and Rhodesia has largely been ignored or taken for granted and is seen as the
natural order of things, is itself a testament to the persistence of racialideology in
perceptions of migration.
Perry, London is the Place for Me , pp.
19, 92, 101, 108, 133.
Maya Goodfellow, Hostile Environment: How
Immigrants Became Scapegoats (London: Verso, 2019) ; Amelia
Gentleman, The Windrush Betrayal: Exposing the Hostile
status, the Black middle class possess relatively privileged amounts of economic
capital. Indeed, as one white colleague recently commented to me on finding
out that I research how racism affects the Black middle class, ‘It doesn’t matter
what colour you are if you’re earning £200,000 a year and driving a BMW!’
This comment, although seemingly inane, represents the wider commitment
that many Britons have towards post-racialideology. Namely, the existence of a
Black middle class is taken to be representative of the non-existence of structural
This book analyses the use of the past and the production of heritage through architectural design in the developmental context of Iran. It is the first of its kind to utilize a multidisciplinary approach in probing the complex relationship between architecture, development, and heritage. It uses established theoretical concepts including notions of globalism, nostalgia, tradition, and authenticity to show that development is a major cause of historical transformations in places such as Iran and its effects must be seen in relation to global political and historical exchanges as well as local specificities. Iran is a pertinent example as it has endured radical cultural and political shifts in the past five decades. Scholars of heritage and architecture will find the cross-disciplinary aspects of the book useful. The premise of the book is that transposed into other contexts, development, as a globalizing project originating in the West, instigates renewed forms of historical consciousness and imaginations of the past. This is particularly evident in architecture where, through design processes, the past produces forms of architectural heritage. But such historic consciousness cannot be reduced to political ideology, while politics is always in the background. The book shows this through chapters focusing on theoretical context, international exchanges made in architectural congresses in the 1970s, housing as the vehicle for everyday heritage, and symbolic public architecture intended to reflect monumental time. The book is written in accessible language to benefit academic researchers and graduate students in the fields of heritage, architecture, and Iranian and Middle Eastern studies.