In this paper I argue that indigenous men in the Pacific engage in gender practices that historically have had widely different consequences for their positions of power or marginality. I focus my analysis on the production of modern Polynesian masculinities in Hawai'i and Aotearoa (New Zealand), highlighting the importance of the intersection of European and American colonialism(s) with indigenous forms of social organization. I look specifically at the participation of indigenous men in the military and sports, two of the most (...) important sites for the production of masculinities where indigenous men contend with hegemonic ideologies of gender and culture. I end with some critical reflections on the possibilities and limitations of reviving traditional indigenous masculinities in decolonization movements in Hawai'i and Aotearoa. (shrink)

Put briefly: perhaps the entire evolution of the spirit is a question of the body; it is the history of the development of a higher body that emerges into our sensibility. The organic is rising to yet higher levels. Our lust for knowledge of nature is a means through which the body desires to perfect itself. Or rather: hundreds of thousands of experiments are made to change the nourishment, the mode of living and of dwelling in the body; consciousness and (...) evaluations in the body, all kinds of pleasure and displeasure, are signs of these changes and experiments. In the long run, it is not a question of man at all: he is to be overcome (Nietzsche 1967: 358). (shrink)

The relation between hegemony and masculinity needs reassessment in the light of postcolonial critique. A fully historical understanding of hegemony is required. The violence of colonization set up a double movement, disrupting gender orders and launching new hegemonic projects. This dynamic can be traced in changing forms through the eras of decolonization, postcolonial development, and neoliberal globalization. Specific configurations of masculinity in the contemporary metropole-apparatus can be traced, together with their relations with local power. A gender order is emerging in (...) transnational space and minimal conditions for hegemony within it can be defined. Counter-hegemonic projects among men have multiplied but have limited reach. Hegemony under construction, rather than achieved hegemony, is the key concept. (shrink)

Gandhi’s conception of non-violence was unique in having martial and maternal elements. He drew upon the mythological figure of the noble warrior but he also stressed maternal capacity for love and endurance. The virtuous self-suffering woman and the Kshatriya warrior were the ideals that Gandhi shared with his militant Hindu nationalist opponents. By bringing together these two ideals in the combative non-violent soldier, Gandhi tried to invert his opponents’ hierarchy of values. He proposed that dying without enmity towards the adversary (...) is more courageous than killing. The truth-force required to subdue the enmity of the adversary is generated from within oneself by overcoming fear, desires and attachments. Because of the male-centric nature of this overcoming, Gandhi’s break with the militant nationalists remained incomplete. The diverse elements drawn from various traditions did not blend in the figure of the non-violent soldier because Gandhi’s interpretations of these past ideas remained influenced by the masculinist anxieties of contemporary nationalism. (shrink)

The BiDil controversy in America coincides with a renewed interest in the linkages between race and therapeutics, whether in the medical history of the United States itself, or in the colonial world. During the colonial era in South Asia, many anthropological and medical researchers conducted research which compared the European and “colonial” body, contrasting everything from blood composition to brain weight between the races of the Indian Empire. This, as Mark Harrison has shown, was fundamentally a phenomenon of the 19th (...) century, arguing that “[i]t was only after 1800 that racial identities came to be fixed and that India was viewed with terror, as a reservoir of filth and disease.” Racist attitudes in British Indian colonial medicine are not hard to discover. They underpinned, for instance, campaigns to improve the appallingly high maternal and infant mortality rates in which the blame was placed squarely upon the women and the indigenous midwives who delivered them rather than the poverty in which they lived. As such, Peers Dimmock, a professor of gynecology and obstetrics at the Calcutta Medical School, opened his address to the First Indian Medical Congress in 1894 with a diatribe against “the unclean and repulsive traditionary [sic] methods of the native midwives.”. (shrink)

The era of high colonialism in South Asia coincided with the period when eugenics came to dominate much of the scientific discourse in Europe and America. Such attitudes were naturally transplanted into the colonial world where medical researchers helped to establish a pathological “difference” between Europeans in India and the colonial “Other,” thus creating a medical discourse dominated by racial segregated treatment regimes. With the growth of trans-national transfer of scientific knowledge, this colonial “research” began to underpin racially constructed medical (...) practices wherever they occurred. (shrink)

Every archive holds many stories; this paper analyses the treatment and socio-political role of the Indian goddess icon, Kali, in the early nineteenth century, considering the story of legal subjectivity through her changing depiction and worship. Kali was reimagined as a monster-like figure of hate and fear, of depravity and unchecked female sexuality, and the anti-thesis of morality, by the East India Company officers who compiled the archive on thuggee. As the icon of reverence to thuggee, an early codified crime (...) of habitual stranglers, this paper follows Kali through her restructuring under the British imperial vision, and as a mirror-metaphor of repressed feminine energy in the legal archive. I analyse the change in Kali’s iconography under the gaze of the law and the advent of a new colonial branding made up from parts of her legend. It is through this new role that the introduction of a standardised legal framework forced Kali to become secondary to Western paternalism, a role that split her Eastern feminine aspect into separate facets. I discuss how the repression of the female voice in the thuggee archive reflects historic attitudes of engendering that echoed as a form of nomos in the twentieth century socio-political climate of Britain. Finally, I present where the feminine energy highlights the need for a subtle reorientation of the criminal law to overcome areas of recurring dissonance in service to its female subjects. (shrink)

The emergence of legal decolonization in the mid-twentieth century, as evidenced by the 1960 United Nations Declaration on the Granting of Independence to Colonial Countries and Peoples, is often understood through the lens of race and the disruption of racial hierarchy. If we take seriously the transnational feminist contention that the colonial racial order was also gendered, however, how might this perspective shift our understanding of decolonization? In this article, I explore the debates on decolonization that take place in the (...) UN General Assembly from 1946–1960 that lead to the 1960 Declaration from a transnational feminist perspective to answer this question. Specifically, I use comparative historical and discourse methods of analysis to explore how colonialists and anti-colonialists negotiate the onset of legal decolonization, focusing especially on how colonialist hierarchies of race, culture, and gender are addressed in these debates. I argue that, on the one hand, colonialists rely on a paternalist masculinity to legitimate their rule (i.e., our dependencies require our rule the way a child requires a father). In response, anti-colonialists reply with a resistance masculinity (i.e., “colonialism is emasculating;” “decolonization is necessary for a return of masculine dignity”). I argue that decolonization in the United Nations transpires via contentions among differentially racialized masculinities. Ultimately, a transnational feminist perspective that centers the intersection of race and gender offers a richer analysis than a perspective that examines race alone. (shrink)