Gender and Island Communities

Firouz Gaini, Helene Pristed Nielsen, Firouz Gaini, Helene Pristed Nielsen

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2020
• eBook ISBN: 9780429558733
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Politica e relazioni internazionali
• Subtopic: Politica

This book takes an explicitly feminist approach to studying gender and social inequalities in island settings while deliberating on 'islandness' as part of the intersectional analysis.

Though there is a wealth of recent literature on islands and island studies, most of this literature focuses on islands as objects of study rather than as contexts for exploring gender relations and local gendered developments. Taking Karides' 'Island feminism' as a starting point and drawing from the wider literature on island studies as well as gender and place, this book bridges this gap by exploring gender, gender relations, affect and politics in various island settings spanning a great variety of global locations, from the Faroe Islands and Greenland in the north to Tasmania in south. Insights on recent developments and gendered contestations in these locations provide rich food for thought on the intricate links between gender and place in a local/global world.

This text will be of key interest to students and scholars of gender and feminist studies, cultural studies, Island studies, anthropology, and more broadly to sociology, geography, diversity and social justice studies, global democracy, and international relations.

1 Gender, change, and continuity in island communities

Firouz Gaini and Helene Pristed Nielsen

Introduction

While we both currently live on islands, this does not in any way either qualify or disqualify us in terms of doing research on islands. ‘[N]o science has ever been constituted in such a way that the place of birth or residence of the researcher is relevant and even decisive for the constitution of a discipline’ (Baldacchino, 2008, p. 48). Nevertheless, this fact probably goes some way towards explaining our interest in islands. First and foremost, however, our interest lies in the co-constitution and co-construction of social inequalities. Having done research for several years on gender relations, on changing masculinities and femininities and their intersections with place, we feel it is high time to discuss gender concomitant with ‘islandness’. We spend the rest of this introductory chapter explaining what we mean by ‘islandness’ or island studies, and why we consider it timely to discuss the intersections of gender, ‘islandness’, and other social factors impacting on and impacted by processes of globalisation.

Island studies refers to a body of academic literature which emerged in the early 1990s (Grydehøj, 2017, p. 4), and which ‘challenged uninformed and uniform perceptions of islands and islanders that relied on tropes of isolation and backwardness’ (Karides, 2017, p. 30). McCall’s contribution to island studies was the presentation of the term ‘nissology’ (McCall, 1994), which he introduced in the following way: ‘I propose as a counter to this mistaken continental thinking the concept of “nissology”, the study of islands on their own terms’ (McCall, 1996, p. 76). However, as we shall argue below, we are somewhat sceptical of McCall’s notion of nissology (from Nissos, Greek for Island), even if we dedicate this book to studies of islands. McCall’s concept is very similar to Moles’ concept of ‘nissonology’ (1982), which refers to the study of islands, or more specifically ‘island space’, and which has first and foremost been used by French geographers and social psychologists. Combining phenomenological analysis of behaviour with psychoanalytic analysis of spatial experience, Moles is suggesting that life on islands – as a particular geographic environment – generates a particular image of the world (Moles, 1982). Curiously, in several French articles (for instance Castelain, 2006, p. 401), the concepts are interchanged and ‘nissology’ linked to Moles’ article.

Figure 1.1 The view from Firouz’ office window: the island presence is felt everywhere in the Faroes.

In the very first editorial of the Island Studies Journal, Baldacchino argued for the relevance of island studies in the following way: ‘There is sufficient evidence that islands – small islands in particular – are distinct enough sites, or harbour extreme enough renditions of more general processes, to warrant their continued respect as subjects/objects of academic focus and inquiry’ (2006, p. 9). The word ‘focus’ is important in this quote, because, as Ronström (2013) discusses, there is a big difference between seeing islands as the focus or the locus of research. The aim of this book is actually dual: to have islands both as loci of study and as focus. Therefore, the book contains a series of case studies of island lives and experiences spanning different island loci across the globe. Seeing islands as focus of research, however, entails approaching ‘islandness’ as ‘an intervening variable that does not determine, but contours and conditions physical and social events in distinct, and distinctly relevant, ways’ (Baldacchino, 2004, p. 278). In this sense, islands are exactly a core focus in the book as ‘an intervening variable’, or – in more conventional feminist theoretical terms – as part of the intersection of social circumstances which circumscribe the lived experiences of all women and men.

Including place in analyses of intersections of gender with other inequality creating mechanisms is not new in academic research. The existence of well-established journals like Gender, Place & Culture: A Journal of Feminist Geography attests to this being a stable academic focus, and several volumes published in the series Gender in a Global/Local World embrace the same interest.¹ However, when it comes to explicitly co-considering gender with islandness as ‘an intervening variable’, the literature is limited. As discussed in Chapter 2, the English language journals specifically devoted to island studies² give very sparse attention to gender with one notable exception, namely Karides’ 2017 article titled Why Island Feminism?. As Karides points out in this article,

Island Studies literature rarely has engaged with feminism or queer theory to explore how gender and sexuality, as it intersects with other social forces, contour the lives of islanders and the cultural and socio-economic conditions of islands. Concurrently, feminist and queer research on islands and of islanders analyse social inequalities, sexuality, and coloniality without deliberating islandness and Island Studies research.

(Karides, 2017, p. 30)

In other words, a research gap exists in terms of taking an explicitly feminist approach to studying gender and social inequalities in island settings while deliberating islandness as part of the intersectional analysis. Therefore, Karides proposes to introduce ‘Island feminism’ which she defines as a ‘theoretical orientation that understands “islands on their own terms” ’ (McCall, 1994, p. 2) and draws from feminisms of intersectionality, geography, and coloniality and queer theory (Karides, 2017, p. 31). We consider Karides’ proposition both welcome and timely, although also ambitious and perhaps theoretically too demanding. Hence, we wish to retain two of Karides’ five theoretical sources of inspiration as backbone in this book, namely islands and intersectionality, and leave the remaining three (feminist geography, coloniality, and queer theory) as potential sources of inspiration for our contributing authors. Furthermore, we wish to introduce a temporal aspect to our focus, as we propose that much can be learned about the present through studies of change and continuity across generations as well as across individual island lives.

The complexities of island spaces

All of the case studies in this book are based on (field) work undertaken in different island communities. This may seem like an intuitive and straightforward delimitation, but answering the question ‘what is an island?’ may not be just as simple as one might suppose. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, an island is ‘a piece of land completely surrounded by water’ (Oxford University Press, 2018). But as discussed by Royle (2014), this belies the complexities of etymological origin, historical understanding, and even contemporary uses of the word ‘island’. Furthermore, defining islands as pieces of land surrounded by water begs a number of ensuing questions: how big or small can an island be to be called an island? Does it have to be inhabited to be counted as an island? And does it cease being an island if it becomes connected to the mainland via fixed links such as tunnels or bridges? A number of examples serve to illustrate the complexities of such questions. First of all, the question of size: as Royle points out,

At the higher end of the continuum there is no problem of definition, for convention dictates that Australia at 7,686,843 sq km (2,967,907 sq miles) is the smallest continent, which makes Greenland at 2,175,600 sq km (840,004 sq miles) the largest island. The problem comes at the lower end. At what point does an island become a mere rock?

(2014, p. 26)

At the lower end of the scale, counting islands is almost impossible, partly because some islands alternately appear and disappear with tidal waters, other rocky protrusions may be part of the same under-water reefs and so on. Referring to estimates based on mathematical calculations (rather than actual counting) by Depraetere and Dahl (2007), Royle quotes figures relating to the number of islands worldwide as anywhere between 86,732³ and seven billion⁴ (Royle, 2014, p. 27).

Second, regarding the question of whether habitation is paramount for island status, the Liancourt Rocks, also known as Tokto in Korean, and Takeshima in Japanese, is an interesting East Asian example. While South Korea controls the islets, the sovereignty over them is contested by Japan. The Liancourt Rocks consists of two main islets and 35 smaller rocks. Despite its tiny size and remote location, the rocks assume high levels of political and diplomatic attention. The rocks lie in rich fishing grounds. Disputes over offshore territory are very common in East Asia, and have proven difficult to resolve (Fern, 2005, p. 78). Another example is the uninhabited (and uninhabitable) Senkaku Islands dispute between Japan, Taiwan, and China. The Senkaku Islands have a very important geopolitical role for both China and Japan, and represent one of the most dangerous ruptures in Sino-Japanese relations today (Baldacchino, 2017). Thus, even uninhabited islands may be greatly significant in a global political perspective.

Figure 1.2 Aerial view of Qaqortoq: Greenland is the world’s largest island. But maybe the towns in Greenland are islands in themselves?

Third, there is the question of whether fixed links in the form of tunnels or bridges can denude islands of their ‘islandness’. Royle argues that ‘The sea might still surround the island, but functionally fixed links change islands into peninsulas’ (2014, p. 11). The ocean has always been the main thoroughfare of islanders, for instance in the case of the Faroe Islands of the North Atlantic. In the Faroes, the traditional rowing boat represented the lifeline between people and villages, the connection between adjacent islands, and between the archipelago and the rest of the world. This explains why the islanders used to say: ‘bound is boatless man’. In medieval time, there was extensive ship traffic between the islands in the North Atlantic; people and goods moving and building what became the Nordic world. The gate to the large world was at the harbour. Later, with the introduction of modern (wheeled) vehicles, the role of the ocean, surrounding and defining islands, changed. Today, most of the Faroe Islands are connected through bridges and subsea tunnels, redefining island mobilities. Hovgaard and Kristiansen write about how residence in the Faroe Islands has become a mobile practice: ‘today you can live in one place, work in another place, buy commodities in a third, pursue leisure activities in a fourth and go to church in a fifth’ (Hovgaard and Kristiansen, 2008, p. 66). However, because society increasingly comes to rely on (auto)mobility, ‘mobility capital’ increases in importance, as everyday functions have become increasingly segregated. Mobility versus immobility thus becomes a major social fault line – today, one might say ‘bound is carless (wo)man’.

Oppositely, some places may experience losing their links with the mainland – most commonly caused by tidal waters. As Royle points out with reference to, for example, Mont Saint Michel off the Bretagne coast in France or Point Stephens in New South Wales in Australia, ‘islanding can happen on a daily basis’ (Royle, 2007, p. 43) due to tidal flows. The self-fashioned floating islands of Lake Titicaca, Bolivia, which have become a major tourist attraction, is another rare form of islandness (Castelain, 2006, p. 403). More dramatically, perhaps, islands can also appear or disappear as a result of natural disasters – for example the island Surtsey off the Icelandic coast was ‘born’ in 1963 due to a volcanic eruption. And in January 1825, a storm broke through the land at the western end of the fjord Limfjorden in Denmark, causing everything north of the fjord to be effectively an island (‘completely surrounded by water’) and the water of the fjord to turn saline, with huge implications for life in the fjord, the local fishers, and the local diet (Poulsen, 2005). However, although geographically an island for almost 200 years, the area is neither culturally nor in terms of infrastructure very cohesive, and is most commonly referred to as three different counties rather than one island.

Finally, the image can be completely reversed. What happens if we, rather than conceptualising islands as dots of land ‘completely surrounded by water’, instead see the water as the medium binding together these islands and defining their possibilities rather than their outer limits, recognising the strategic importance of the sea. Inversing the image entails regarding the sea as connectivity and a possibility for coping with distances (Bærenholdt, 2007). For example, the Faroe Islands in the North Atlantic have close and regular connection to neighbouring societies despite being located far from any other island or continent. The ocean, rather than representing an isolating boundary, has functioned as an inviting gate to the rest of the world. Islands are never completely closed and ‘external dispersals are always essential for island assemblages – both natural and cultural’ (Tsai in Royle, 2007, p. 18). As pointed out by Eriksen: ‘Water tends to unite; mountains tend to divide’ (1993, p. 135).

One author, who has worked with such an inverse reading of the sea, is Tongan postcolonial writer Hau...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Series Page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Contents
• List of figures
• List of tables
• List of contributors
• Preface
• 1 Gender, change, and continuity in island communities
• 2 An island feminist approach to scholar-activism
• 3 Being (un)stuck in Qaqortoq: attachment, ambivalence, and affect in contemporary Greenland
• 4 Gender on the Rock: gender, identity, and militarism in Okinawa
• 5 An intersectional analysis of Island Feminist Praxis in Puerto Rico
• 6 Parenting and islands: constructing gender and work in the Faroe Islands
• 7 An island and intersectional analysis of STEM faculty careers in Hawai’i
• 8 Island intersections: a correspondence about educational research in Tasmania
• 9 Island studies through love and affection to power and politics
• Epilogue: writing from somewhere
• Index