Decolonisation - What Does it Mean Today?

By Reea Soz, First Year History

At the end of the Second World War, Britain began its decolonisation of the countries it had once had ruthlessly controlled. However, the sun did not set on imperialist ideologies, which have now settled within our present. In this piece, The Bristorian discusses colonial legacies and aims to outline what decolonisation means in the world we know today.

The contemporary world has moulded our perceptions of the past; it has centralised Europe and has failed to address the colonial legacy left behind by the British Empire. The Empire authorised famines, executed massacres, forced its colonies into war – depleting their already scarce resources – and ultimately left when they couldn’t afford to loot them anymore.

This departure, or quick get-a-away, is often referred to as ‘decolonisation’.

As such, it has become necessary for this term to adopt a new meaning that removes itself from hinting at the greatness of Great Britain for gifting its colonies their independence. Instead, decolonisation has shifted away from Eurocentrism to focus on the experiences and struggles faced by people of colour. But why? To enable the acknowledgment of the (albeit more covert) imperialist ideologies still prevalent in today’s world.

The disdain shown by the British Empire towards their colonial citizens has perpetuated white exclusiveness and elitism. Stuart Hall refers to this as ‘The Heritage’ - a past that is authorised, one that structures a narrative to embody the ‘spirit of the nation… a concept pivotal to the lexicon of English virtues’.[1] In doing so, ‘The Heritage’ excludes those who don’t fit into this national story, prompting problems relating to ‘belonging’.

Yet again, people of colour became defined by their ‘otherness’, seen as ‘in but not of Europe’. This is where decolonisation comes into play. It redresses this exclusivity and legitimises the histories of people of colour. Priyamvada Gopal rightly states that decolonisation is a ‘process, an ongoing interrogation’.[2] It is essentially a questioning and subsequent acknowledgment of the ways in which one can be complicit in reinforcing the concepts of colonialism.

British heritage is intimately intertwined with the history of its Empire and, as such, decolonising this carefully structured, exclusive narrative allows us to ask the questions: who is celebrated, whose histories are told and how, who is left out… why?

Decolonisation, its meaning, and more importantly its implementation, encompasses the acknowledgment of the glorification of Eurocentrism: its whitewashed history and its invalidation of people of colour. This is clearly epitomised by a concept penned by the brilliant Ngugi wa Thiong'o: the ‘cultural bomb’.[3] 

This concept is often perpetrated by the West and is internalised by POCs.

The ‘cultural bomb’ is defined by its function to ultimately trigger extreme doubt within people with colonial heritage – from their heritage of struggle to their languages and even to their names. It leaves no stone unturned. The ‘cultural bomb’ aims to evoke not only self-doubt, but also self-hatred; it attempts to enforce the idea within POCs that their colonial heritage is no more than a ‘wasteland’, a place that they should distance themselves from – instead, they should adopt the obviously superior and progressive culture of the white, European world.[4]  

Understanding the existence of the ‘cultural bomb’ and our personal contributions is an essential step in decolonisation because it enables us to make an active effort to move away from the imperial concept of European, more specifically, white superiority. Legitimising the histories, struggle, and experiences of people of colour is crucial.

We have a very long way to go. We have not yet moved to the ‘undoing’ of coloniality, we remain at the step of acknowledging and identifying the ways in which imperialist ideology has manifested in our contemporary world. Today, the western world is not prejudice-free.

The media coverage of the events unfolding in Ukraine exemplify this.   

Certain media reports highlight a closer affiliation felt between European states. Charlie D’Agata’s insistence on Ukraine as a “civilised” state demonstrates that the suffering of white ‘European’ people is more resonant with other Western countries than somewhere like the Middle East. Furthermore, reporting from Poland, an ITV journalist clarified that “this is not a developing, third world nation. This is Europe!” and Daniel Hannan, of the Telegraph, further explained that “They seem so like us”.

These comments are representative of the racism still prevalent today; a society that often doesn’t recognise people of colour as ‘us’, instead as the ‘other’. There have been a number of incidents in which African citizens have been prevented from leaving Ukraine, and a Somalian student, Asya, has mentioned encountering a hotel that was “only for Ukrainians”.

The racism that has surfaced through the tragic events occurring in Ukraine is a glaring reminder of the deep-rooted colonial legacies embedded in the western world. It normalises tragedy in so-called ‘third world’ countries, suggesting that it is natural for people of colour to face war and violence. Their experiences and struggles are invalidated, whilst the superiority of white Europeans has once again been reinforced.       

Clearly, decolonisation will be a long process. It will entail the acceptance and deconstruction of white supremacy that is perhaps imperceptible, but still remains deeply rooted within the Western world. Shashi Tharoor justly claims that ‘History belongs in the past; but understanding it is the duty of the present’.[5] As such, it is necessary for us to recognise the legacies of the past, within the present, and facilitate conversations that identify how they have manifested into our society.

Footnotes/Further Reading

[1] Stuart Hall, ‘Whose Heritage? Un-Settling “The Heritage”, Re-Imagining The Post-Nation’, in The Politics of Heritage: The Legacies of Race (Taylor & Francis Group, 2005), pp. 21–31.

[2] Priyamvada Gopal (2021) On Decolonisation and the University, Textual Practice, 35:6, 873-899, DOI: 10.1080/0950236X.2021.1929561

[3] Ngũgĩ wa Thiongʼo, ‘Introduction’, in Decolonising the Mind: The Politics of Language in African Literature, 2005, pp. 1–3.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Shashi Tharoor, Inglorious Empire (Penguin Books, 2018).

 

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