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.demo.remotlog.com
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.
The public who acted as unsolicited citizens during the time of the constitution making continued to expect and insist, moreover, that state authorities and politicians open avenues for their participation. The public ensured that in India, there was no idolized constitutional ’moment’, frozen in time. Instead, they turned the making of the constitution into an enduring momentum for India’s democracy and its democratic politics. The constitution became an open site of struggle, never solely within the purview of judges and legislatures. The multiple acts of assembling beyond the Constituent Assembly during the time of the constitution making took on a life of its own, creating organisations and social movements, which animated local politics and sustained a vibrant constitutional culture.
This paper focuses on diplomatic training as a site for exploring the tensions in late colonialism around sovereignty and self-government. Training for the diplomats of soon to be independent states was understood by imperial governments as an ambiguous issue in this period immediately pre-independence: it offered the potential for the former metropole to sustain power and influence within a rapidly changing world, whilst at the same time challenging the very foundations of imperialism by empowering the diplomats of soon to be independent African states. Drawing on archives in France, the UK, and the US, as well as a newly recorded oral history interview with one of the first cohort of Ghanaian trainees, we focus on the development of diplomatic training from ad hoc responses to requests to a more formalised programmes provided by imperial powers and the United States, and tensions and competition between providers and over the content of the courses. We focus primarily on the Gold Coast/Ghana, contextualised within wider experiences of African colonies in both the British and French empires. We demonstrate that training for diplomats provides novel insights into the temporalities, spatialities, and agency that characterised the late colonial state.
This article investigates the introduction of human rights reforms in late colonial Africa, a period defined by the disintegration of European colonial rule. While existing scholarship often attributes these reforms to European efforts to ensure a smooth transition to independence, foster post-colonial stability, and address post-war geopolitical challenges, such analyses frequently overlook the agency of indigenous nationalist leaders and anti-colonial activists. These groups perceived the reforms as strategically motivated maneuvers by departing colonial powers and engaged with them accordingly. Focusing on the decolonisation era in Africa, this study argues that both colonisers and the colonised approached human rights rhetoric primarily as a tool for pragmatic objectives rather than as an expression of ideological commitment to human rights norms. European powers framed these reforms as altruistic, yet their underlying motivations were rooted in political and economic interests. Conversely, African leaders appropriated human rights discourse to expose colonial hypocrisy and advance their political agendas. This engagement underscores the tension between universal human rights ideals and the pragmatic realities of political strategy (realpolitik) during a transformative period in the development of the international human rights framework. It also highlights how political calculations constrained the realization of universal human rights principles such as dignity, equality, and inalienability.
This paper examines the role of big business as the linchpin of late colonialism in Rhodesia (colonial Zimbabwe) during its Unilateral Declaration of Independence (UDI) years between 1966 and 1979. After Rhodesia’s rebellion against Britain in 1965, London and the world, through the United Nations, responded by imposing sanctions against Salisbury, hoping to bring it to legality quickly. However, Rhodesia survived the expected impact of sanctions until its demise in 1979. Scholarship has accounted for this survival in various dimensions, emphasising the role of white solidarity/redoubt in the region, manipulation of the market and sanction busting or breach by friendly states and businesses. Regarding sanction busting, less accounted for are the other major sanction busters, except for well-known governments of Portugal, South Africa, and the USA, as well as British and South African oil firms. Using primary documents from British archives and intelligence work, this paper shows the specific companies that were the raison d’etre of late colonialism and the British government’s response and actions against these firms. The paper argues that by acting as conduits for Rhodesia’s access to international markets, British firms kept its economy going, thereby propping up and propelling the Rhodesian rebellion, paying and sustaining late colonial rule, and delaying the decolonisation of Rhodesia. The paper further shows the duplicity and indecisiveness of the British government in dealing with the Rhodesian problem, thus elongating settler rule. In doing so, the paper thus contributes to the historiography of the politics and economics of late colonialism and the role of business in decolonisation in Southern Africa.
Despite Fanon’s recent popularity, his work on violence is portrayed as controversial, particularly regarding revolutionary violence. Revolutionary violence in anti-colonial movements is either glorified as a liberating force or vilified as terrorism. However, this portrayal misses one of the main contributions of Fanon’s thought on violence, that is, violence cannot be separated into direct and structural, physical and epistemic, or revolutionary and colonial violence. I theorise what Fanon calls ‘atmospheric violence’ – violence that is, like the air, pervasive within the colonial system and its totality is reflected not only in the apparatus, structure, and meaning, but also in the felt, visceral, and embodied. In this sense, atmospheric violence cannot be compartmentalised but is layered, dynamic, and able, which is particularly useful in investigating the revolutionary violence of the colonised being. This paper theorises atmospheric violence through three points of engagement: first, atmospheric violence shows that colonial violence is violence of abjection rather than of social domination and subordination; second, atmospheric violence indicates that revolutionary violence reveals the complex relationship to agency and postcolonial subjectivity; third, atmospheric violence shows how revolutionary violence poses a potential for and a limitation to decolonisation due to its nature of non-compartmentalisation.
It has long been acknowledged that the past can be a weapon. In Palestine, reports of the targeting of archaeological sites, museums, archives, and other locations of cultural heritage by Tel Aviv have been increasing drastically since 7 October 2023 (although they took place before). This article seeks to contextualise these destructions of heritage within a larger project of controlling history and understands this project to be a cornerstone of European colonialism, comparing it with Britain’s colonial control over how ancient sites are interpreted in what is now Zimbabwe. It asks what the role of the historian is in a time of genocide and revisits what it means to do “decolonial” work while history is being weaponised for colonial occupation. And it requires those of us who are interested in the past (and especially the ancient past) to reckon with our position in the belly of the beast.
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.
These excerpts from Inbetweenness, an upcoming hopepunk novel, intertwine eco-social justice narratives and Indigenous education through climate fiction. Inbetweenness challenges Western-centric paradigms by highlighting diverse voices and posthumanist perspectives, focusing on the tension between contemporary environmental crises and Indigenous knowledge systems. It features characters like Joanne Penderwith, a graduate student navigating social justice, ecological connection, and decolonial praxis, inviting readers to reflect on allyship and positionality within activism. The novel also juxtaposes human-centric actions with the voices of other-than-human entities, using multi-species ethnography to embody ecological storytelling. A pivotal segment details Joanne’s transformative experience at a salmon ceremony led by the W̱SÁNEĆ First Nations, showcasing the resilience of Indigenous practices and their potential to guide sustainable futures. Inbetweenness uses fiction-based research methods grounded in 20 years of transdisciplinary research. It critiques performative allyship and advocates for authentic relationships with Indigenous communities, proposing a hopeful approach to environmental education and climate action.
This chapter synthesises the findings and discusses how sociomaterial processes shape languages. Challenging modernist linguistic paradigms, it examines how language categories emerge through diverse cultural, historical, and material practices. The chapter critiques binary linguistic models and universalist, teleological assumptions of standardisation, showing that stable linguistic systems are not ‘natural’, but result from specific sociopolitical and material conditions. In contrast, fluid linguistic practices in postcolonial and globalised contexts exhibit variability, innovation, and complex indexicality. Belize’s multilingual environment exemplifies a setting without a hegemonic linguistic centre, producing liquid linguistic norms. The chapter argues for decolonial approaches to linguistics that embrace heterogeneity and that challenge exclusionary, Eurocentric models. Ultimately, it positions fluid linguistic practices as a cultural avant-garde and understands postcolonial environments as inspiring insights into future global sociolinguistic orders shaped by digitalisation and transnationalism.
The political economy of these states forms the subject of Chapter 4. As many of the smaller Caribbean states transitioned to independence in the 1970s, the small size and perceived economic viability of places like Cayman have been used to explain away their non-sovereign status. However, this simplified reasoning obscures the full picture. Recent scholarship has highlighted how the current system of tax havens developed as European empires began to fracture. The British Virgin Islands and the Cayman Islands are crucial parts of this global network of offshore tax, and their development as non-sovereign states must be understood within this wider context. Meanwhile, the departmentalisation of Martinique and Guadeloupe led to increasing economic dependency on France, where higher GDP and living standards than neighbouring islands mask the high levels of unemployment and inequality. In both cases, local elites managed to cement their economic power as the economies of the islands changed during decolonisation. This chapter demonstrates that it was in the economic interests of powerful groups and systems to keep these islands from becoming independent.
The last chapter offers a comparison of protest movements in the territories: some appeared to be less politically motivated and more concerned with land rights and economic grievances; other movements, such as the march in 1949 in the BVI, openly called for greater political rights and autonomy. Yet, none of the campaigns by local pro-autonomy activists managed to achieve widespread public support or electoral success. This final chapter assesses local independence groups and their political discourse. It explores their interactions with the local population, existing political structures, and regional anticolonial movements. It is inaccurate to suggest that the non-sovereign status of these territories was a result of a lack of popular protest or a total absence of nationalism. Rather, through the relationship between popular protest movements, local politics, clandestine independence activists and the response of the colonial state, no widespread call for independence emerged.
Chapter 2 explores the impact of the global Cold War on decolonisation in these Caribbean territories. Three factors relating to the Cold War are explored: Americanisation in the Caribbean region; the significance of the Cuban Revolution; and anticolonial and Third World solidarity movements. As a newer colonial power in the Caribbean, the US played an important role as a cultural and ideological counterpoint to the metropolitan governments of Britain and France. The French State was greatly concerned about the popularity of the Communist Party in the French Antilles and took extensive measures to monitor and suppress members. The Cuban Revolution was a key moment for the region, inspiring activists across the Caribbean, including in the four territories in question. Fear of the spread of communism affected local politics and was used to discredit pro-autonomy politicians and activists. Chapter 2 argues that the Cold War in the Caribbean was, at times, a backdrop to political developments and, at other times, a crucial part of the political situation.
Chapter 3 addresses British and French involvement in the decolonisation of the case study territories. It assesses the differing approaches of colonial representatives towards the political status of the territories. This includes measures taken to repress anticolonial protests and activists, the Gallicisation of Guadeloupe and Martinique after departmentalisation and the impact of years of chronic underfunding. This chapter places these territories within the wider context of the decolonisation of the British and French Empires. It argues that colonial pressures prevented a fair and open debate on the question of independence in these territories.
Chapter 1 looks at the key factors behind post-war changes in political status, the motivations of local politicians involved in these negotiations and the impact of these changes on future steps to decolonise. In 1946, Martinique and Guadeloupe gained overseas department status to integrate them fully into the French Republic. Meanwhile, the West Indies Federation negotiations gave the Cayman Islands and the British Virgin Islands the opportunity to reconsider their position within the British Empire. Both chose to become crown colonies with a more direct link to Britain. This chapter argues that these changes to political status were crucial to later attempts to negotiate greater autonomy. These changes were particularly significant for the French Antilles, as they would halt debates about independence for the following ten to fifteen years. In the British territories, crown colony status stabilised British rule and shifted the focus towards economic development.
Chapter 6 analyses and compares the development of political parties in the territories. Many of the local political parties in the French Antilles, like the Communist and Socialist parties, were associated with their metropolitan counterparts. As a result, their position towards French colonialism and local autonomy was compromised. This made for a striking blend of political discourse that was vehemently anticolonial yet also pro-French and anti-independence. Attempts to establish political parties in the Cayman Islands caused heated debate and much opposition from the Caymanian oligarchy and ultimately failed. This coincided with the failure of the most significant pro-autonomy politician. In the British Virgin Islands, personal battles between political parties and politicians often pushed issues of autonomy to the background. Chapter 6 contends that the development of political parties in each of the territories was closely tied to the ways nationalism and decolonisation evolved.
Chapter 5 assesses the nature and position of local elites in the four territories. In Cayman, economic and political power was concentrated in the hands of a small, mostly White elite group. In the French Antilles, though the descendants of White plantation-owning families controlled the economic sphere, local politics were dominated by a Black political elite who had emerged after abolition. Local intellectuals, like Aimé Césaire in Martinique, were key negotiators of decolonisation. Some have described the BVI as a ‘classless’ society. Certainly, the redistribution of land and the departure of the White plantation owners in the decades after abolition had led to a relatively equal population of smallholders. However, it is important to note that the first political group to champion Virgin Islander rights was established in the 1930s by a group of merchants and a lawyer, who had all become more economically successful through opportunities in the US and during the Prohibition era. Local elites, seeking to improve the islands, acting in their self-interest, or collaborating with colonial representatives, were key actors in the negotiation of the islands’ political status.
This chapter concludes the book by reflecting on the implications of the intertwined origins of colonial Hong Kong and British extradition law. In the final analysis, ideas of extradition actuated local, territorial, and limited common law government in mid nineteenth-century Hong Kong. This set Hong Kong apart from China in idea and practice, through processes that disclosed British unilateralism and parochialism. Remarkably, similar processes are now taking place but in reverse, as heated debates about extradition and jurisdiction have arisen in Hong Kong’s postcolonial reassimilation into mainland China.
This manuscript presents findings from a 2023 qualitative Indigenist research project examining disability service providers in Southeast Queensland that tailor services for Indigenous peoples with disabilities. Data were collected through yarning interviews with 14 organisations, including both Indigenous-managed and non-Indigenous-managed entities. The findings highlight distinct differences in approaches to cultural safety, with Indigenous-managed organisations demonstrating an Embedded Cultural Base (CB) model, wherein cultural safety is deeply integrated into service provision, decision-making, and organisational structures. These organisations reported high Indigenous staff representation and strong engagement with Indigenous peoples with disabilities, alongside proactive inclusivity extending to other diversity groups, including LGBTQIA+ communities and refugees. In contrast, non-Indigenous-managed organisations primarily employed Ad Hoc (AH) cultural safety approaches, incorporating cultural initiatives such as reconciliation action plans (RAPs) and cultural competency training, yet lacking the foundational integration seen in CB organisations. The research highlights the potential of Indigenous-led management strategies in fostering holistic, culturally safe, and flexible disability services. Aligning with First Nations scholarship on the custodial ethic and the model of cultural inclusion, this study highlights how Indigenous cultural values serve as both a protective and empowering factor for people with disabilities. The findings suggest that embedding Indigenous management principles within the disability sector could enhance cultural safety, service accessibility, and community-driven care models, prompting further consideration of their role in shaping inclusive and effective management practices.
Since its inception in 1831, the French Foreign Legion, a specialised unit within the ranks of the French military, has played a prominent role in the wars of both colonisation and decolonisation. This article seeks to trace the origins, development and eventual decline of an Italian and international ‘Legionary issue’ regarding the recruitment and employment of Italian volunteers in a foreign military force deployed in the French decolonisation war in Indochina. Through the examination of archival sources as well as autobiographical narratives by Italian legionnaires, this study offers a novel perspective on the interplay between Italy’s political, economic and sociocultural trends, the enlistment of Italian volunteers into the French Foreign Legion, and the evolution of Italo-French relations in the postwar period.
In the words of Eric Lewis, “approaching Afrological musics from the theoretical perspective of a Western aesthetic…yields not only a lack of understanding…but can have pernicious political and social results.” In this paper, I demonstrate the relevance of this statement to the British Music classroom. In Part One, I outline the current state of the UK’s Model Music Curriculum and seek to identify its underlying ideology. Part Two offers a survey of how the universal understanding of music as a series of autonomous products generates a prescribed set of criteria for musical evaluation. By ascribing idiosyncratically European notions to our evaluation of music on a universal scale, we are left with an incomplete understanding and appreciation of music not conceived according to this ideology. Looking to the future, Part Three suggests how we might approach music in a fair and germane way via a transfer of emphasis from the musical product to the people involved in the musical process. I name this an outside-in approach to music, and consider it a universally applicable and fruitful mode of musical analysis—people are, after all, the common denominator for music-making. By beginning with the social and cultural conditions in which musicians create, students are equipped with a multiplicity of lenses through which they can better appreciate the value and beauty of musical cultures both near and far.