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Shakespeare’s plays suggest not so much a preoccupation with war as his recognition of its inescapability. He seems never to have experienced warfare firsthand, but no doubt had spoken to people who had. But most of what Shakespeare knew came from books. Chief among these were the chronicles he depended upon for his histories, primarily the group project we refer to as “Holinshed.” What he found was that warfare is more or less indistinguishable over time, a fact revealed in the tedious repetition of battle accounts, further blurred by the echoing of aristocratic family names over generations – and, in the often-overlooked source of the 1577 Holinshed, in which the recycling of a limited number of woodcuts to illustrate events separated by hundreds of years reveals the dispiriting reality. Ironically, it is in Henry V, Shakespeare’s seemingly most triumphal presentation of English military heroism, in which “the question of these wars” finds an answer.
Remembering is also the theme of Hegel’s Phenomenology of Spirit (1807) but of a different kind than Schelling’s. It is not of a cosmic event; nor does it yield a theogony. The issue for Hegel is rather the actualization of the historical human individual and of humanity accordingly, and the remembering is of how being rational affects an individual’s relation to nature. At origin this relation is worked out unconsciously. It is visibly reflected, however, in the sense of self-identity into which an individual is historically born, just as one is born into a family. To retrieve the source of the identity, thus to make it deliberately one’s own – by the same token to make of nature a work of intelligence – is the factor that motivates experience. Chapter 5 contrasts Schelling’s and Hegel’s respective ideas of history. It then proceeds with a detailed examination of the Phenomenology up to the section on Religion. It argues that, while in some ways a work of conceptual fiction, the Phenomenology must nonetheless have historical anchoring and logical significance. It also underscores the debt Hegel owes to Fichte that makes him quite different from Schelling.
Religion is for Hegel the language of a community about itself. Its practices and beliefs reflect the sense of self-identity that animates the community’s members, and, since that identity is a product of reason, they also reflect the level of explicit rationality the community has achieved. Religion, however, is not the same as rational knowledge. Evil, for Hegel, is not a cosmic event as it is for Schelling but a historical and eminently individual act – in effect, the product of reason doing violence to nature. Religion’s specific function is thus one of reconciliation, a function that assumes different forms depending on historical circumstances and the advent of self-aware rationality. Nonetheless, reconciling cannot be the same as understanding reconciliation. Chapter 6 contrasts religion in Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel. It returns to the theme of feeling of Chapter 1, for feeling is an experience of identity. It also examines Hegel’s interpretation of the Christian story of incarnation and redemption as an imaginative portrayal of incarnate rationality. It then again returns to Chapter 1 by interpreting Hegel’s Logic, the science of this rationality, as an extension of Kant’s doctrine of the categories but without the classical metaphysical presuppositions still encumbering that latter.
This chapter asks what the Aborigines’ Protection Society and Thomas Hodgkin reveal to us about British humanitarianism and settler colonialism in the mid-nineteenth century. It also considers how, in the twenty-first century, we should read the chauvinism and paternalism of metropolitan advocates of indigenous rights, and how we can understand the importance, but limitations, of their interventions.
This chapter traces Dr Thomas Hodgkin’s engagement with British anti-slavery, the American Colonization Society, Liberia and the African American Emigration movement. Hodgkin was the leading advocate in Britain for the colony of Liberia, and became its British consul after independence in 1848. Hodgkin conceived of solutions to slavery within an unusually transnational framework. However, his championing of gradual emancipation for British slaves and plans to civilize West Africa by repatriating emancipated slaves from the New World, led him into unsavoury alliances and conflict with leading British and US abolitionists. Hodgkin’s correspondence with humanitarian opponents, doyens of British abolition, leading Liberians, African American Emigrationists, and the American Colonization Society, reveals deep divisions within anti-slavery which had ramifications for the campaigns for indigenous protection and civilization.
This introductory chapter examines the archive of Thomas Hodgkin and its value for understanding British humanitarianism and activism on behalf of indigenous peoples, and particularly the activities of the Aborigines’ Protection Society. It considers the history and historiography of humanitarianism and indigenous protection. It also explores scholarship on settler colonialism, imperial networks, critical indigenous studies and new imperial histories, before presenting the book’s argument.
After the Virus is a book about history and policy. Events such as revolutions and pandemics reveal – like an X-ray – what is going on beneath the surface in a particular society at a particular time. The huge stresses they cause suddenly make starkly visible the damaging effects of the power relationships and embedded inequalities that are already there but too often ignored. The introduction argues that we are now at such a moment of revelation, when people’s political imaginations can be engaged in new directions.
It explains why the reduced investment in our social fabric over the last forty years of a disempowering neoliberal state left us unable to respond effectively when COVID-19 arrived, arguing that the stresses created as a result produced a pandemic that was anything but levelling. Those most at risk were the poor, many with pre-existing health problems, frequently working in exposed front-line roles while others stayed safely inside. COVID-19 was a syndemic. It was not just an infectious disease to be controlled by cutting lines of transmission. It was a super-toxic coming together of a deadly respiratory illness, with latent, non-communicable health conditions (heart disease, diabetes and obesity) that interacted with embedded social inequality.
Despite the boost it gave to settler colonialism, Thomas Hodgkin and the Aborigines’ Protection Society initially supported colonization on the ‘systematic’ principles advocated by Edward Gibbon Wakefield. This chapter examines the society’s engagement with three systematic colonization schemes: South Australia; ‘Australind’ in Western Australia; and New Zealand. The systematic colonizers recognized the strength of contemporary humanitarian sentiment: they couched their plans in philanthropic language and courted the support of the Aborigines’ Protection Society. However, evidence quickly emerged of the systematic colonizers’ indifference to and violation of indigenous rights, yet the Aborigines’ Protection Society continued to advocate new systematic colonization schemes into the 1840s. This chapter explores humanitarian dissatisfaction with existing vectors of indigenous protection; desperation for a solution to the emigration crisis; growing disillusionment with imperial inquiries and imperial authorities; the charismatic force exerted by Wakefield; and the allure of a ‘systematic’ plan to protect indigenous rights.
This chapter investigates two episodes in which humanitarian objectives clashed with liberal economic orthodoxy. The British India Society broke away from the Aborigines’ Protection Society in 1839. It linked ‘Justice to India’ with ‘Prosperity to England’ and ‘Freedom’ to American slaves, but its supporters were divided over the first Opium War and its campaign was derailed by the decision to prioritize Corn Law repeal over Indian reform. The relationship between ‘free trade’ and ‘free labour’ was also a focus of the campaign waged by the West India Association, in which Dr Thomas Hodgkin was prominent, to maintain tariff protection for British West Indian sugar against that produced by slaves in Brazil and Cuba. The Association prioritized free colonial labour over free trade, even though a more ethical British stance would come at the expense of British workers. The chapter reveals tensions between London and the British provinces, and within liberal imperial policy, as well as contradictions within humanitarian circles.
North America was a key nineteenth-century battleground for indigenous rights. The Aborigines’ Protection Society followed US developments keenly; derided and despaired of the rule of the monopolistic Hudson’s Bay Company in Rupert’s Land; and hoped that the Canadian colonies could lead the way in recognizing indigenous rights. This chapter considers the society’s championing of indigenous rights in British North America at a time of imperial withdrawal. It explores the emphasis placed by the Aborigines’ Protection Society on ‘civilization’, and how this was shaped by Thomas Hodgkin’s encounters with four indigenous activists from British North America. The Ojibwa chief and missionary, the Reverend Peter Jones and his niece, Nahnebahwequa, protested the theft of their land and advocated for indigenous education, representation and legal rights. Alexander Isbister and his uncle, William Kennedy, spearheaded the campaign in Britain against the Hudson’s Bay Company. The chapter explores how indigenous interlocutors’ engaged with British humanitarians; how their authority translated to the metropolitan context; and how this translation jeopardized standing at home.
Mark Goble uses the concept of convergence to explore the implications of formal and temporal compression, economy, and slowness in an age of unprecedented expansion and speedup. Richard McGuire’s Here presents an extreme example of spatial restriction and temporal expansion, while novels by Ruth Ozeki, Richard Powers, and William Gibson juxtapose ecological, scientific, technological, and theological timespans to human ones in ways that echo postmodern and science fiction precursors, but with very different aims and warnings in mind for denizens of the Anthropocene.
Dr Thomas Hodgkin was a physician and medical researcher as well as a humanitarian campaigner. Hodgkin’s science was informed by his social conscience and his affiliation to the Society of Friends, while his philanthropy rested on the presentation of systematically organized and scientifically derived evidence. This chapter discusses Hodgkin’s medical research and career, and then his significant contribution to the emerging disciplines of ethnology and geography. Hodgkin and his peers within newly emerging scientific disciplines established and used scientific societies to not only stake disciplinary claims, but also promote political and humanitarian objects. Exploring the myriad overlaps in personnel, ideas and approach between the different areas and organizations with which Hodgkin was involved, this chapter addresses the underappreciated connection between science and humanitarian activity in mid-century London, and the impact of that relationship on our reading of indigenous protection.
This chapter explores three connected approaches to the protection of indigenous peoples and their rights in Great Britain’s empire that emerged in the wake of slave emancipation. The House of Commons Select Committee on Aborigines (1835–7) published a report described as a ‘blueprint’ for imperial humanitarians throughout the rest of the century. It inspired the 1837 establishment of two new bodies, each dominated by Dr Thomas Hodgkin, which advocated the protection of indigenous peoples in Britain’s empire: the Society of Friends’ Committee on Aborigines and the better-known Aborigines’ Protection Society. The Friends’ committee endured for twenty-five years, drew on British Quakers’ experience of anti-slavery activism and disbursed a substantial budget, but had a limited impact. The Aborigines’ Protection Society proved better at maintaining and drawing on networks that incorporated government, settlers, indigenous people, missionaries and humanitarian activists.
During the early Victorian era, British settler colonialism dramatically intensified and expanded in Southern Africa, British North America, New Zealand and Australia. The granting of self-government to settler colonizers was accompanied by the transfer of responsibility for indigenous affairs from imperial to colonial governments in the 1850s and 1860s. The Aborigines’ Protection Society recognized the threat settler colonizers posed to indigenous populations. Its 1840 Outline of a System of Colonization revealed a universally applicable plan to ensure the protection, rights and civilization of indigenous peoples. This chapter analyses the society’s anxieties about unruly settlers, missionary endeavours and government-sponsored Protectors of Aborigines and, by contrast, the peculiar allure of the promise and rhetoric of systematic colonization. Exchanges with colonial informants, the imperial government, colonial speculators and humanitarians contributed to the development of platform, which emphasized indigenous possession of land, rights, fair access to the law and education.
The parlous situation of indigenous peoples in Southern Africa and New Zealand deteriorated even further in the 1850s and 1860s. The Aborigines’ Protection Society tried to promote indigenous rights in these regions to increasingly hostile and independent settler polities and to persuade the imperial government and metropolitan Britons of their continuing responsibilities to indigenous subjects. Ever more conscious of the gap between its programme of securing indigenous land and autonomy and colonial policies of (coercive) ‘amalgamation’, the society made little headway. Dr Thomas Hodgkin tried to mediate between indigenous leaders, missionaries and activists, settlers, and colonial and imperial governments during conflicts in Lesotho and New Zealand, focusing his efforts particularly on the powerful architect of ‘humane governance’, Governor Sir George Grey. These years, however, revealed the society as at odds with both metropolitan and colonial power brokers, patronizing towards its indigenous and missionary allies and impractical in its plans.
The concluding two chapters take up cultural responses to the ongoing violence perpetuated by mass incarceration and the global cycles of warfare and terror. Dennis R. Childs examines narratives of immobility based on police and state violence, imprisonment, and detention and deportation at national borders. He argues that “anti-carceral hip-hop” is the “aesthetic practice [that] represents the quintessential storytelling method for those most commonly targeted for police killing and imprisonment.” Reading hip-hop narratives within a “long twenty-first century” of radical literary, political, and musical practices since the 1970s, he links recent works by Dead Prez, Reyna Grande, Ann Jaramillo, Kendrick Lamar, Monifa Love, Main Source, Invincible, and Askari X to those of James Baldwin, Angela Davis, Public Enemy, Chester Himes, George Jackson, Audre Lorde, Toni Morrison, Assata Shakur, and Malcolm X.
The papers in this forum offer an interdisciplinary assessment of the state of the field of Anglican Studies and perspectives on future trajectories. The first three papers, on liturgy, history, and world Anglicanism, offer an assessment of the respective state of these areas of Anglican Studies. The second set, on theology, sociology of religion, and biblical studies, stake out positions on how these disciplines inform the work of Anglican Studies. A concluding essay offers a synthesis of these papers, focusing on the themes of local contexts for Anglicanism, a further complexification of decolonizing processes in Anglicanism, and the critical role of conversation in Anglican Studies regarding disciplines, languages, and power dynamics.
In this chapter, five main themes emerge with respect to the historiographical side of Grotius' works: (1) the polarity between constitutionalism and patriotism on the one hand, and reason of state and scepticism on the other; (2) Grotius’ ‘secularising’ reading of history; (3) the close correlation between scholarship and politics; (4) Grotius’ use of sources and his relation to contemporary developments in Antiquarianism; and (5) the important role of historical perspectives in his other works, such as De jure belli ac pacis and the Annotationes on the New Testament.
This chapter offers reflections on how to create a sense of belonging for the stateless that keeps them in our purview as historical agents who can determine their actions and meaning. Whereas the legal definition of statelessness remains a key category, the chapter examines the experiential implications of statelessness, understanding these as a form of unbelonging. The rupture of displacement has cut the ties to community and place requiring that we look at the complex process by which refugee communities acquire cohesion through the repetition of their common story of displacement, as anthropologist Michel Agier has shown. Expanding the temporality of the stateless, this chapter seeks to link a deeper sense of history to a future trajectory where a form of belonging discovered through history can shape momentum for the resolution of statelessness in the future. Taking the works of poet Peter Balakian as its key example, the chapter focuses on the impact of the Armenian Genocide on future generations, and how the specifics of this history of mass violence and displacement can move us toward a recognition of the crisis in our contemporary moment.