Relating Indigenous and Settler Identities

Beyond Domination

A. Bell

• Publisher: Palgrave Macmillan
• Year: 2014
• Print ISBN: 9780230237421
• eBook ISBN: 9781137313560
• Topic: Social Sciences
• Subtopic: World History
• Index: Social Sciences

This book uses identity theories to explore the struggles of indigenous peoples against the domination of the settler imaginary in Australia, Canada, New Zealand and the United States. The book argues that a new relational imaginary can revolutionize the way settler peoples think about and relate to indigenous difference.

1

Introduction

The movie Avatar tells the story of a corporation from Earth mining ‘unobtainium’ on the planet Pandora. The indigenous Na’vi people are in the way, their village and Hometree located directly above the unobtainium deposit. The miners are supported by military contingents who fight the Na’vi, but cannot defeat them, and scientists, who study the local biota and Na’vi cultural and spiritual knowledge. While the scientists are interested in learning about the planet’s biological systems and how the Na’vi interact with them, the primary motivation for learning about the Na’vi from the corporation’s perspective is to convince them to move. To do so, the scientists need to get close to the Na’vi, to learn their language and interact with them. To achieve this closeness each scientist has an avatar, a second body made out of the combination of Na’vi and human DNA. While the human body sleeps in a ‘pod’ on the company’s base, the avatar is awake and studying life on Pandora.

Some of the scientists, and in particular the movie’s hero, Jake Sully, who is not a scientist but a disabled ex-Marine working with the scientists, come to empathize with the Na’vi and to admire their way of life. The Na’vi live an authentic life, spiritually connected to both nature and their ancestors. The film-makers have clearly drawn on representations of Earth’s indigenous cultures in their creation of these indigenous aliens. Na’vi dress resembles traditional dress of American and Pacific peoples, their body paint that of Aboriginal Australians, and their language is based on Polynesian languages. Beyond these markers of earthly indigeneity, the construction of Na’vi culture draws on long-standing stereotypes of indigenous peoples that contrast their values and way of life sharply with those of capitalist modernity. The Na’vi live in harmony with nature, in contrast to the destructiveness of the humans’ capitalist and technological engagement with the natural world. While the human society is driven by insatiable desires for more wealth, Na’vi society appears static, unchanging, maintaining balance with the natural world and connection with the spirits of their ancestors. Further, the two are distinctly incompatible. To get what they want the humans have to destroy Na’vi society (as inevitably turns out to be the case). To maintain their society, the Na’vi have to get rid of the humans. The two – indigenous people and colonizers/settlers – are drawn dichotomously in incompatible contrast to each other.

Avatar tells the well-worn story of colonization and exploitation as romance and is testimony to the continuing power of the archetypes of noble, authentic indigeneity and rapacious modern, capitalist development. The Na’vi embody an authenticity that modern society cannot co-exist with, but desires and romanticizes as it destroys. Despite the implicit critique of capitalist development, its destructive forces are given full reign here. The Na’vi social order is shattered and their village destroyed, before the narrative takes a less common twist that results in the banishing of the mining company. The Na’vi – and the audience – are left with the hope and expectation that they can rebuild their society. Like colonizing settlers, the Avatar audience looks nostalgically at, and identifies with, what their society has destroyed.

The ultimate failure of colonial settlement in Avatar has been read by some commentators as providing an optimistic twist to the usual colonial tale (Clifford, 2011; Simpson, 2011). But in many respects the movie recounts a classic settler colonial fantasy. The earthly invaders are split between the rapacious miners and military forces – who ultimately leave – and the hero, Sully, redeemed by conversion to the indigenous way of life. It is Sully, rather than the miners and their supporting forces, who represents the settler colonial subject. Sully has fallen in love with the Na’vi princess, Neytiri (who, like Pocahontas, acts as his guide to her world) and with the Na’vi more generally. He becomes not only Na’vi, abandoning his human body for his Na’vi avatar, but their new leader and redeemer, using his earthly knowledge to fend off the human attack and rebuild their society. A focus on Sully’s narrative trajectory undercuts the optimism some viewers find. Rather, Sully’s conversion and redemption tracks the recurring settler fantasy in which the difference between indigenous and settler peoples disappears and the two are united as one. And as Lorenzo Veracini (2011a: 361–2) has noted, this split between nasty colonizers and noble settlers follows a specifically American version of this fantasy, a version in which the American settlers are portrayed as distinct from the colonizing British, banished following the Revolution.¹

This tale is wearyingly familiar to any student of settler colonialism. For me, a settler descendant myself, it is depressing that this romance can still be told and lauded, despite the very real earthly correlates to the destruction of the Na’vi way of life. I am stunned at how little we, settler peoples, have learnt about ourselves, our histories and our relations with indigenous peoples, that this story can be repeated and, more particularly, celebrated so widely, in the twenty-first century.

The repetition of this double settler move – to continue to colonize and simultaneously to seek redemption – is at the heart of this book. So too are indigenous strategies of resistance and assertions of autonomy and survival. It is within this context that the juxtaposition of (indigenous) authenticity and (settler) modernity, so evident in Avatar, is a recurring theme in what follows. This old story, which dates at least from the Enlightenment juxtaposition of ‘Modern Man’ and the ‘Noble Savage’, continues to play out in the relationships between settler and indigenous peoples today. It is a story that links the identities of indigenous and settler peoples as opposed characters in a modern narrative about lost authenticity. As in Avatar, it is a story about indigenous being and settler becoming, indigenous stasis and settler dynamism.

One of the key tasks of this book is to demonstrate how settler societies remain caught in these tragic colonial dynamics in the present. In powerful ways that we are largely unconscious of, the unhappy identities and relationships evident in Avatar shape the way settler and indigenous peoples think about their identities as national and indigenous subjects today. Issues of culture and authenticity lie at the heart of these unhappy colonial identities and relationships in the real world, as they do in Avatar. Authenticity, as it plays out in indigenous–settler relations, is an idea imported from the European Enlightenment and projected onto indigenous peoples, in the form of the Noble Savage figure, a figure of both desire and incompatible difference with settler modernity. Variations of this early figure of authenticity continue to plague settler accounts of and responses to indigenous assertions of identity. For example, while economic and social development is both demanded of and desired by indigenous communities, it can also put their status as representatives of ‘authentic’ cultures at risk. At the same time the settler also wants to be ‘authentic’ and authenticity is claimed, used and denied on both sides in the conflictual relations over land and belonging that operate between settlers and indigenous peoples.

The connected themes of temporality and agency also riddle these conflictual relations. The logics of authenticity frequently position indigenous ways of being as the ontologies of another time, incompatible with modernity. In modern society, indigenous ways of being appear as hangovers from the past. Indigenous ways of life can only appear in modernity in the form of ‘tradition’, appropriate for symbolic and ceremonial occasions, but not appropriate to the management of economic life, the organization of social relationships, or the practice of government. And given the link between the authentic and such frozen ideas of traditionalism (the authentic native does not change), the self-determining agency of indigenous peoples is also questioned and denied, the understanding of indigenous people as ‘actors in the present, begin[s] to be theoretically submerged and marginalized’ (Nakata, 2007: 202).

The other key task of the book is to explore identity strategies and ways of thinking about identities in relation that provide us with new stories, new ways of thinking about indigenous and settler identities, new forms of indigenous–settler relationship – strategies and concepts that seek to escape the tragedy and violence of the colonizing romance. Perhaps an alternative end to the story is possible. There may be ways in which indigenous and settler peoples might co-exist differently, ways that avoid the problematic of the settler romance that ends with their conversion to indigeneity. This book explores a range of identity strategies indigenous peoples engage in to assert agency over their fates, outside of settler leadership and control. But, at least equally importantly, one of the arguments of this book is that settler peoples also need to change. The assertion of indigenous agency, or self-determination, calls for an affirming response from the non-indigenous population of settler societies. If colonial dynamics are relational, requiring both colonizing and colonized figures, new forms of both indigenous and settler subjects are necessary to break out of these colonial patterns. This book draws on the philosophy of Emmanuel Lévinas to identify changes in thinking about settler subjectivities and relations with indigenous peoples that can support the development of new possibilities in the narratives of settler societies.

This is a book about identity politics – about what and how identities are made to mean and the effects of their articulation. These effects are also linked to who articulates/speaks them and in what context. Ongoing settler propensities to define and delimit indigenous identities – to declare which are correct, to judge who is or isn’t a ‘real’ indigenous person – are crucial signs of the ongoing existence of colonial relationships. So how then do I, as a settler subject, speak about indigenous identities? The book maps the discursive field of settler and indigenous identities, setting out a range of ways in which both are constructed and relate to each other. In doing so I aim to assess the political effects, the limitations and achievements, of specific constructions of indigenous identities (and settler identities), but with the aim of identifying the work of colonialism and resistances to it, rather than to identify the truth of indigenous identities. The book is underpinned by an understanding that mobility and change are the truth of all identities, the signs of their vitality. What I want to defend and promote are relationships between settler and indigenous peoples that facilitate indigenous self-determination and self-representation, and it is in support of this that the book ends with a focus on the changes required on the part of settler subjects to minimize their propensity for judgement of indigeneity.

In writing this book I am very much guided by Antonio Gramsci’s (1971: 324) observation that ‘the starting point of critical elaboration is … “knowing thyself” as a product of the historical process to date which has deposited in you an infinity of traces, without leaving an inventory’. Against the individualist and future-oriented assumptions that saturate modern settler cultures, a basic premise of this study is that we are all significantly the products of our cultural and political histories. The book catalogues some of the items of the colonial ‘inventory’ – authenticity, modernity, universalism, the linear relationship of past, present and future, liberalism – that are sedimented into settler ways of thinking, and looks at how they have contributed to shaping indigenous–settler relations. While these ideas are labelled as arising out of settler histories and interests, their massive impact on indigenous peoples and ways of being is undeniable. They have also made their way inside the heads of indigenous peoples and inflect the possibilities of what it is to be indigenous in the twenty-first century. Identifying these traces of history is the first step to assessing them and determining what is worth holding on to and what is holding us back.

The tragedy of our colonial histories begins with the settler belief in his/her own superiority in relation to indigenous peoples. Over the hundreds of years of settler colonization from the 1500s in the Americas to the 1800s in the Pacific, new layers were added to the basis of that belief. Initially, settlers judged themselves superior because of their Christianity as opposed to indigenous ‘heathenism’. Later, belief in the superiority of European ‘civilization’ over indigenous primitivism or ‘savagery’ added another layer to their tales of superiority, and, finally, belief in the superiority of the white race over non-white races was added to the mix of ideas that justified colonization and settlement. Today, despite a degree of widespread acceptance of cultural difference, it is the mix of ideas associated with the civilization/primitivism binary that are the most tenacious in maintaining colonial relations and that will be the central focus of this investigation. Constructions of race will constitute a minor theme only. The civilization/primitivism binary highlights the problematics of authenticity that continue to vex the constitution of settler nationhood.

The settler and the indigene – and their relationality

I am sometimes challenged on my use of the word ‘settler’ to refer to contemporary white New Zealanders, Australians, Canadians and Americans. The challenges come from two directions. One argument is that the settlers are historical figures and this term is not applicable today. The other is that it is too benign a term, disguising the harsh violence of colonial invasions of indigenous homelands. In response to the argument that we are now many generations after the events of colonial settlement, I am persuaded by Patrick Wolfe’s (1999: 2) assertion that colonization is ‘a structure, not an event’. Structurally, present-day white New Zealanders, Americans, Australians and Canadians occupy the positions in our societies that were created by the labour of the early settlers. We still constitute the dominant culture of our societies, and our political and economic institutions are largely governed by people like us. And this is the case whether or not we are actually descended from early settlers or our families arrived much more recently. I am persuaded also by the argument of the Australian philosopher, Raimond Gaita (2002: 87, 98), that the settlers are the ‘political ancestors’ of all white Australians (and, by extension, Americans, Canadians and New Zealanders). We are structurally, if not biologically, ‘settler descendants’. We have inherited the political, material and symbolic privileges secured by their practices of colonization. And we continue them or address them in our own lives.

This ‘we’ that I am invoking here is a flexible and open category. Who ‘occupies’ the position of ‘settler’ and to what degree is a shifting and mutable issue. There are two relevant points here that I take from the work of the Australian anthropologist, Ghassan Hage, on white Australian national identity and the relationship of ‘Third World-looking people’ (Hage, 2000: 18) to that category. Firstly, Hage (2000: 49–66) argues that national belonging is a form of symbolic capital that can be accumulated. It is a matter of knowledge, practice and position rather than intrinsic being. This means that in settler societies even ‘Third World-looking people’ can accumulate a degree of settler national capital and national belonging. Some of the ways this might work is via the adoption of particular discursive positions in relation to indigenous peoples or more recent or racially/culturally distinct immigrants. Secondly, all non-indigenous citizens within settler societies are implicated in the colonial dynamics of those societies. While there are differential positions of power in the national field, there are no positions of innocence. At the most basic level, all whose families arrived after colonial settlement occupy a position in a set of social structures created by that settlement. It is this sense of the complicity of all of us with colonialism that motivates me to explore the politics of contemporary settler and indigenous engagements.

The other criticism is that ‘settler’ is a term that itself hides the violence of colonization. From this perspective it is more accurate and honest to use ‘colonizer’, or ‘invader’ as is often used in Australia in particular. For me, ‘settler’ – peaceable as the idea of ‘settling’ may sound – specifies, as it hides, the particular forms of violence – physical, legal, epistemological, symbolic – inflicted on indigenous people in this form of colonial relationship. While I use ‘colonizer’ and ‘settler’ interchangeably, my preference remains for ‘settler’ as it is the term that most precisely identifies the form of colonization under discussion. What distinguishes settler colonization from other forms is that it was driven by desire for the land itself. Settlers are a particular kind of colonizer, those who seek to make a new home on the lands of others. Crucially also, this primary desire for indigenous land as a settler homeland sets up a particular relationship between settlers and indigenous peoples, one in which the settler seeks to replace the indigenous as the people of the land, to become indigenous themselves.² Either indigenous peoples must disappear (literally or symbolically) or the two peoples must be merged – and in some versions these two are tantamount to the same thing. Thus, claims to place and valuations of (both indigenous and settler) morality and worth are complexly interwoven in these settler strategies, providing a rich field for analysis within settler cultural forms. The politics of authenticity are crucially bound up with these struggles for belonging and right, the discourse of nationalism requiring that only one people can be the authentic (and sovereign) people of the nation-state.

Against the settler desire for the disappearance of, or unity with, the indigene, indigenous peoples in settler societies have not disappeared. If anything they are making a comeback – demographically, culturally, politically, economically, morally – and this book is located at this particular historical juncture in which the morality of the settler project has been subject to renewed challenges from indigenous communities for justice and self-determination. In the face of this resurgence, new vari-ations are evident of the old strategies of ‘disappearing’ the indigenous, or becoming one of them. But there are also exciting moves to establish new, respectful relationships with indigenous peoples, relationships founded on acknowledgment of indigenous difference, equality and autonomy that will be explored later in the book. This book is in part underpinned by a desire to encourage those of us on the settler side of these relations...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Contents
• Acknowledgments
• 1. Introduction
• Part I: The Settler Imaginary
• Part II: Postcolonial Resistances
• Part III: Towards the Relational Imaginary
• Afterword
• Notes
• Bibliography
• Index