Peace As Liberation

Peace Psychology Book Series
Series Editor: Daniel J. Christie
Fatima Waqi Sajjad Editor
Peace as
Liberation
Visions and Praxis from Below
Series Editor
Daniel J. Christie, Marion, OH, USA
The scope of threats to human security at the dawn of the 21st century is daunting.
Terrorism, weapons of mass destruction, nuclear proliferation, failed states,
ideological struggles, growing resource scarcities, disparities in wealth and health,
globalizing trends, violations of human rights, and the continued use of force to
advance individual, group and national interests, are all complex problems. At the
same time, we are witnessing countervailing trends in the growing recognition and
endorsement of nonviolent means of resolving differences, the importance of
reconciliation processes in human relations, the promotion of cultures of peace, and
the building of societal structures and global institutions that promote peace, human
rights and environmental sustainability. During the past 20 years, peace psychology
has emerged as a specialty in psychology with its own knowledge base, perspectives,
concepts, and preferred methodologies to grapple with threats to human security
and seize opportunities to promote human well-being. In regard to the problem of
violence, peace psychology scholars and activists place human psychology and its
links to other disciplines at the center of their efforts to prevent and mitigate episodes
of violence and structural forms of violence. In addition to reducing violence, peace
psychologists seek to develop theory and practices that promote relational harmony
across levels (from interpersonal relations to global networks) and equitable human
well-being. The Peace Psychology Book Series recognizes that the emerging and
multi-faceted problems of human security challenge us as scholars and activists to
develop psychologically-informed theory that will deepen our understanding of the
major threats to human security, and create practices that will help us address some
of the most urgent and profound issues that bear on human well being and survival
in the 21st century.
Series Advisory Board

Herbert Blumberg , Goldsmiths College, United Kingdom Daniel Bar-Tal , Tel
Aviv University, Israel Klaus Boehnke , International University Bremen, Germany
Peter Coleman , Columbia University, USA Cheryl de la Rey , University of Cape
Town, South Africa Shelley McKeown Jones , University of Bristol, United
Kingdom Yayah Khisbiyah , Universitas Muhammadiyah Surakarta, Indonesia
Siew Fang Law , Victoria University, Australia Wilson Lopez Lopez , Pontificia
Universidad Javeriana, Colombia Winnifred Louis , University of Queensland,
Australia Anthony Marsella , University of Hawaii, USA Fathali Moghaddam ,
Georgetown University, USA Maritza Montero , Central University of Venezuela,
Venezuela Cristina Montiel , Ateneo de Manila University, Philippines Ann
Sanson , University of Melbourne, Australia Mohamed Seedat, University of
South Africa Michael Wessells , Columbia University and Randolph-Macon
College, USA
Fatima Waqi Sajjad
Editor
Peace as Liberation
Visions and Praxis from Below
Editor
Fatima Waqi Sajjad
University of Management and Technology (UMT)
Lahore, Pakistan
ISSN 2197-5779 ISSN 2197-5787 (electronic)

ISBN 978-3-031-41964-5 ISBN 978-3-031-41965-2 (eBook)
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-41965-2
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To the souls struggling to breathe
In the segregated chambers of knowledge,
being and power
Of modern/colonial world
Endorsements
Peace as Liberation: Visions and Praxis from Below is a welcome intervention in

the field of peace psychology, and just what is needed to redress the entrenched
Eurocentricity of peace studies. Incisive, confronting and genuine, it is a wonderful
collection of essays that centres the voices and agency of subaltern scholars. Highly
recommended.
—Richard Jackson, University of Otago, New Zealand
After fighting the 20 Years War by demonizing Islam and being defeated, US NATO
started a new proxy war by demonizing the former Cold War enemy. Global South
is no longer as docile as before. No, its very wisdom sheds light on the path to save
innocent people who sacrifice blood in the proxy war.
—Isezaki Kenji, Tokyo University of Foreign Studies, Japan
We are living through a profoundly significant moment in the history of

Decolonisation, even as old Balances are splintering, and old Hegemons are totter-
ing. It is timely, it is relevant, and it adds depth to the burgeoning clamor of cri-
tiques, as the ‘subalterns’ are finding their Voice. Freed from the muzzles of their
erstwhile masters.
—Rajani Kanth, ex-Harvard University, United States
This groundbreaking book breaks barriers in peace studies, giving voice to margin-
alized perspectives and challenging epistemic violence. A transformative must-read.
—Zahid Shahab Ahmed, Deakin University, Australia
vii
Foreword
Peace psychology emerged as a recognized area of research and practice within the
field of psychology during the early 1980s, a time when a growing number of psy-
chologists viewed the increasing tensions in the US-Soviet relationship and the
attendant threat of nuclear war as an existential crisis. Psychologists and other social
and behavioral scientists, especially in the United States, Germany, the United
Kingdom, and Australia, began to reorient and focus their research on the manage-
ment of conflict and prevention of nuclear war. With the dismemberment of the
Soviet Union, peace psychologists turned their analytical lens and practice toward
intrastate wars, the clash of social identities, and the structural and cultural sub-
strates of ethnopolitical conflict and violence.
All these historical developments took place in Western countries with no regard
for the voices and views of scholars and practitioners residing in the Global South,
where most people live. Accordingly, for scholars steeped exclusively in a Western
intellectual tradition, the epistemic frontier of knowledge was bounded by borders
that excluded marginalized communities, where emancipatory praxis and rival
views of reality, knowledge, and the knowledge production process already existed.
The present volume unleashes an epistemic landscape beyond the bounded fron-
tiers of Western intellectual traditions. Within those Western boundaries, peace is
viewed as the pursuit of harmony in human relations, while outside those boundar-
ies, it is revealed that harmony is not attainable nor sustainable without enacting the
emancipatory agendas that foreground equity in human relations, especially in the
construction of knowledge and reality. These emancipatory agendas seek to engage
and redress the continuing violence of coloniality, manifest in the occupation of the
mind and the being of subalterns. Emancipatory impulses make it possible to prob-
lematize thoughts that elevate the knowledge and status of colonizers while disen-
franchising members of the Global South.
The violence of coloniality is addressed in this book, which lives on when local
knowledge and the knowledge production process of subalterns are undermined and
discredited. Until recently, peace psychology and, more broadly, peace scholars
have unwittingly contributed to epistemic violence.
ix
x Foreword
At the same time, the book foregrounds an emancipatory spirit, and as such, this
volume, along with other titles in the Peace Psychology Book Series (viz.,
Emancipatory and Participatory Methodologies in Peace, Critical, and Community
Psychology; Enlarging the Scope of Peace Psychology; and Liberation Psychology),
are a living testament to the decolonial turn in peace scholarship and praxis.
Importantly, as the title of the volume suggests, Peace as Liberation: Visions and
Praxis from Below, presents the voices of scholars who are in the process of “becom-
ing” or fully realizing their human potentials to speak their truth despite the con-
straints of epistemic violence. A careful reading of this outstanding volume will
reward the reader with that same sense of liberation.
Editor, Peace Psychology Book Series Daniel J. Christie

Ohio State University,
Columbus, OH, USA
Preface
Stop the words now. Open the window at the centre of your chest and let the spirits
fly in and out... (Rumi)
This book opens a window. A window to let the spirits fly in and out of the con-
fined knowledge domains of contemporary times. As a peace scholar from the
Global South, I had been looking for this window for many years. The word ‘Global
South’ represents a vast space, with many problems of peace, many more hopes and
visions of peace and even more desire and vigor to enact peace. But when I, as a
peace scholar from the Global South, navigate through the existing epistemic cham-
bers of peace studies, I don’t find the problems, the hopes and desires I can call my
own. I don’t find my voice, my concerns and my visions of peace in the dominant
Peace Psychology and Peace Studies domain. However, I do hear some voices that
show me a way. I find some windows carved by the people from my location, who
have been here before me. They have left words and visions I need to hear and see
in the North centred chambers of peace. These words hit me hard. I hear Frantz
Fanon and I instantly connect with his soul. His words open a space I can call my
own. I hear Paulo Freire and I know this is the teacher I want to be. So I see this
opening I can hold on to. This window to my world is known by many names. In
Peace Psychology, this is a domain called Liberation Psychology, a broad frame-
work of visions and praxis that recognizes continuing oppression of human beings
under prevailing systems. And so, I push this window wide open through this book
to let in the voices, the visions, the screams, the joys I need to hear in peace dis-
courses. I am letting in the air I need to breathe in order to live and thrive in epis-
temic spaces of Peace Psychology and Peace Studies. I hope this open window will
help peace psychologists, peace scholars and practitioners look beyond the walls of
North centred peace canon, when they think and do peace from different locations.
I have been a teacher of International Relations (IR), Peace and Security Studies
in Pakistan in the years following 9/11. I was drawn towards Peace Psychology and
Peace Studies domain when I first encountered Johan Galtung’s definition of vio-
lence; ‘violence is present when human beings are being influenced so that their
actual somatic and mental realizations are below their potential realizations’
(Galtung, 1969; p. 168). The idea of human beings not being able to achieve their
xi
xii Preface
full potential, owing to multiple forms of structural and cultural violence, resonated
with my lived experience. I found Galtung’s focus on human beings and human
potential, to explain the problem of peace, more convincing than traditional IR’s
focus on states and their security. The idea of positive peace was far more appealing
to me than the idea of national and international security.
My problem, as a teacher in Pakistan in the years following 9/11, was the prob-
lem of countering/preventing violent extremism through education. The security
literature at this time projected violent extremism as a problem rooted in places like
Afghanistan and Pakistan. Religious seminaries (madrasas) in my location were
termed as ‘the incubators of violent extremism’ (Kean & Hamilton, 2004; p. 369).
Madrasas and public education in my country became a central concern of interna-
tional security literature (Singer, 2001; ICG, 2002, Haqqani, 2002; Kronstadt, 2004;
Hathaway, 2005; Fair, 2008; Bajoria, 2009; Hussain et al., 2010; Winthrop & Graff,
2010). As a teacher, I was closely in touch with two different streams of thinking at
this time, (a) the literature that presented ‘radicalized youth’ in Pakistan as a threat
to international security, (b) the minds and pulse of young people in my country. I
could sense their anger and frustration over what they saw happening in neighbor-
ing Afghanistan, as the US-led ‘war on terror’ unleashed. The stories they read and
heard from across the border were appalling. However, the security and International
Relations discourses they encountered in and outside their classroom were largely
oblivious to the suffering of the people on ground. The young people in Pakistan
clearly recognized that the slogan of ending terrorism through war was irrational.
However, they also knew well that the right to define what is rational or irrational,
who is rational or irrational, did not belong to them. The people in power could coin
new terms, define new categories and put people in them as per their preference. We,
in the Global South, could only consume this ‘knowledge’ coming from above, even
when we recognized the gaps and contradictions within this knowledge. My stu-
dents and I tried to make sense of the new set of vocabulary that emerged in post-9/11
peace and security literature. The terms radical, radicalized, extremist, jihadist,
Islamists, religious fanatics became a consistent feature of the new terrorism dis-
course. None of these terms had a clear definition, so they could be applied and used
in a variety of ways. We could sense the irony of how, only a decade earlier, the
international security regime was actively and closely working with Afghan mili-
tants to oust the Soviets from Afghanistan.1 How they were lavishly praised at that
time for their resolve to wage jihad against the Soviets.2 But the ironies could not be
questioned, just consumed silently. And if they made you angry, you are a problem.
Watch out for the new labels in circulation, waiting to be pasted on those who dare
to be upset.
But all this was upsetting. This was the structural violence Galtung was referring
to. The more I dwelled in the problem of violent extremism; the clearer I could see
1
See the National Security Archive. https://nsarchive2.gwu.edu/NSAEBB/NSAEBB57/essay.html
2
President Reagan’s Remarks After a Meeting with Afghan Resistance Leaders on November 12,
1987. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c9RWtx8myQc. Accessed 7 June 2023.
Preface xiii
its entanglement with the colonial matrix of power; the deep-rooted pattern of power
embedded in the modern/colonial world since its inception. Quijano (2007) explains
how the conquest of Latin America five centuries ago led to the creation of a new
world order that involved a ‘violent concentration of the world’s resources under the
control and for the benefit of a small European minority’ (p. 168). The patterns and
relationships of colonial domination (coloniality) continue to this day even when
political colonization has ended decades earlier. The complex web of coloniality
involves continuing control of political, cultural, epistemological and symbolic
domains. The control of knowledge remains a key instrument of power, as it leads
to the colonization of minds and being (Quijano, 2007). Navigating through the
problem of violent extremism, I heard the voice of Gayatri Spivak, inquiring ‘Can
the subaltern speak’? (Spivak, 2015). Her case for the absence of subaltern voices in
the academic discourses about them offered me the words I had been looking for. I
found the word ‘epistemic violence’ to explain my problem with contemporary
security discourses. Subsequently ‘epistemic violence’, i.e. the silencing, sidelin-
ing, discrediting the voices of the subjugated in the knowledge domains, became my
central concern as a peace scholar. Peace after all is about mitigating violence. This
book is an effort to undo epistemic violence in Peace Psychology as it unearths the
silenced, sidelined and discredited voices and visions from different parts of the
world. This volume visualizes peace as liberation from subjugation. I hope this one
volume is followed by many others that unleash the suppressed voices in epistemic
chambers of peace.
Lahore, Pakistan Fatima Waqi Sajjad
References
Bajoria, J. (2009). Pakistan’s education system and links to extremism. Council on Foreign
Relations. https://www.cfr.org/backgrounder/pakistans-education-system-and-links-
extremism. Accessed 2 May 2021.
Fair, C. C. (2008). Madrassah challenge militancy and religious education in Pakistan. United
States Institute of Peace.
Galtung, J. (1969). Violence, peace, and peace research. Journal of Peace Research, 6(3), 167–191.
Haqqani, H. (2002). Islam’s medieval outposts. Foreign Policy, 133(133), 58.
Hathaway, R. M. (Ed.) (2005). Education reform in Pakistan: Building for the future. Woodrow
Wilson International Center for Scholars. https://www.wilsoncenter.org/sites/default/files/
media/documents/publication/FinalPDF.pdf. Accessed 6 July 2020.
Hussain, A., Ahmad, S., & Arif, N. (2011). Connecting the dots: Education and religious discrimi-
nation in Pakistan: A study of public schools and Madrassas. https://www.uscirf.gov/sites/
default/files/resources/Pakistan-ConnectingTheDots-Email(3).pdf
ICG (International Crisis Group). (2002). Pakistan: Madrasas, extremism and the military.
Islamabad.
xiv Preface
Kean, T. H. & Hamilton, L. (2004). Nine/eleven commission report. Final report of the national
commission on terrorist attacks upon the United States. National Commission on Terrorist
Attacks upon the United States. https://www.9-11commission.gov/report/911Re port.pdf.
Accessed 2 Feb 2020.
Kronstadt, K. Alan. (2004). Education reform in Pakistan. Congressional Research Service (CRS)
Report for US Congress.
Singer, P. W. (2001). Pakistan’s Madrassahs: Ensuring a system of education not Jihad. Brookings.
https://www.brookings.edu/research/pakistans-madrassahs-ensuring-a-system-of-education-
not-jihad. Accessed 18 June 2020.
Spivak, G. C. (2015). Can the Subaltern Speak? In Colonial discourse and post-colonial the-
ory (pp. 66–111). Routledge.
Winthrop, R. & Graff, C. (2010). Beyond Madrasas: Assessing the links between education and
militancy in Pakistan. Brookings Centre for Universal Education. https://www.brookings.edu/
research/beyond-madrasas-assessing-the-links-between-education-and-militancy-in-pakistan.
Accessed 6 July 2020.
Contents

Introduction: Let Me Be Fully Human�� 1
Fatima Waqi Sajjad
Part I Reimagining Peace from Below

Restoring Peace as If Our Life Depends on It (as It Does!) �� 11
Ksenija Napan

Iqbalian Liberation Theology: Spiritual Self-Affirmation, Meritocratic
Democracy, and Non-hegemonic International Orders �� 37
Sohaib Ali
Part II Transformational Resistance to Undo Oppression

The Liberatory Effects of Indigenous Ceremonies in the Aftermath of Mass
Trauma�� 65
Merose Hwang

What Do We Resist When We Resist? Peasants’ Land Rights Movement and
the Emergence of New Social Life in Pakistani Punjab �� 85
Muhammad Qasim
Searching for Liberation in Higher Education: Testimonio from Miami-Dade
County�� 107
Ivania Delgado

What Is Peace for Palestine/Indians Under Israeli Settler Colonial
Occupation? Counterstory Imaginings of Peace Through Transformational
Resistance to Erasure�� 121
Bernardita M. Yunis (Varas) and Tiera Tanksley
xv
xvi Contents

Postcolonial Legacies of Conflict: Educational Language Policies and
Resource Exploitation�� 139
Munjeera Jefford, Achille Fossi, and Eric Keunne
Part III Problematizing Hegemonic Discourses

The June 1981 Coup: The Stolen Narrative of the Iranian Revolution�� 157
Mahmood Delkhasteh

Decolonizing Pakistani International Relations�� 183
Ahmed Waqas Waheed

Beyond Westphalia and Aberystwyth: Decolonial Reflections on the Origins
of International Relations Discipline�� 199
Syed Wajeeh Ul Hassan and Fatima Waqi Sajjad
Index�� 225
Contributors
Sohaib Ali University of Management and Technology, Lahore, Pakistan

Ivania Delgado Core Faculty, Social Work, School of Cultural & Family
Psychology, Pacific Oaks College & Children’s School, Pasadena, CA, USA
Mahmood Delkhasteh The London School of Economics and Political Science
(LSE), Lincoln, UK
Achille Fossi University of Yaounde I, Toronto, ON, Canada
Syed Wajeeh Ul Hassan School of Social Sciences and Humanities, University of
Management and Technology, Lahore, Pakistan
Merose Hwang History Department, Hiram College, Hiram, OH, USA
Munjeera Jefford York University, Toronto, ON, Canada
Eric Keunne York University, Toronto, ON, Canada
Ksenija Napan College of Health, School of Social Work, Massey University,
Auckland, Aotearoa, New Zealand
Muhammad Qasim The Department of Political Science and International
Relations, The University of Management and Technology, Lahore, Pakistan
Fatima Waqi Sajjad University of Management and Technology (UMT), Lahore,
Pakistan
School of Social Sciences and Humanities, University of Management and
Technology, Lahore, Pakistan
Tiera Tanksley University of Colorado Boulder, Boulder, CO, USA
Ahmed Waqas Waheed Department of Government and Public Policy, National
University of Sciences and Technology, Islamabad, Pakistan
Bernardita M. Yunis (Varas) University of Colorado Boulder, Boulder, CO, USA
xvii
Introduction: Let Me Be Fully Human
Fatima Waqi Sajjad
Introduction: Let Me Be Fully Human
Violence is a central problem of Peace Psychology. The discipline seeks to identify,

understand, explain, and mitigate multiple forms of direct and indirect violence. It
conceives peace as “the absence of violence.” Galtung (1969) conceptualizes vio-
lence as conditions that undermine human beings’ ability to realize their full poten-
tial. Peace, in this sense, refers to the conditions that allow human beings to be fully
human, free to live up to their full potential. Conversely, the conditions that make
some human beings less human than others are conditions of violence.
Despite giving ample attention to the problem of violence, Peace Psychologists
remain largely oblivious to certain forms of violence prevalent in contemporary
knowledge domains. Christie et al. (2017) point towards the prevalence of epistemic
violence in Peace Psychology. Epistemic violence refers to the silencing of the mar-
ginalized, racialized, and colonized people in the process of knowledge production.
It involves undermining local knowledge systems and the credibility of locals as
knowers (Spivak, 1999). Epistemic violence is not specific to Peace Psychology. It
is a wider and deeper problem linked to the colonial past and neo-liberal present of
modern knowledge systems. However, owing to the centrality of the problem of
violence in Peace Psychology, epistemic violence should be given more attention by
Peace Psychologists, a deficit in Peace Psychology that is addressed in this
edited volume.
Christie et al. (2017) call for enlarging the scope of Peace Psychology and advo-
cate “an inclusive approach” that allows space for “critical reflection… and engages
with epistemological pluralism rather than epistemic violence (p. 7).” This book is
a fearless step in this direction. It celebrates the voices and agency of the subaltern,
F. W. Sajjad (*)
University of Management and Technology (UMT), Lahore, Pakistan
e-mail: fatima.sajjad@umt.edu.pk
© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 1

F. W. Sajjad (ed.), Peace as Liberation, Peace Psychology Book Series,
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-41965-2_1
2 F. W. Sajjad
marginalized and racialized scholars, by collecting their diverse visions, testimo-

nies, and struggles to push boundaries and create spaces for peace within oppressive
systems. Peace in this book is viewed as “liberation” from oppressive systems that
undermine human potential. It is conceived as a process of becoming fully human
under repressive conditions.
The title “Peace as Liberation: Visions and Praxis from Below” points towards
the deeply entrenched violence of modern times, manifested in contemporary world
and knowledge structures. The word below refers to a location of disadvantage in
the modern world (the Global South/the lesser side of the economic and/or racial
divides). The volume offers peace visions and struggles of the people who live
“below the vital ability of shaping the world according to their own vision…. They
live within the theory and practice of a world, largely created by those ‘above,’ but
also in worlds partly defined by alternative visions that critique praxis ‘from above’”
(Blaney & Innayatullah, 2009; p. 663). Mignolo (2005) terms this unfavorable loca-
tion as the other side of the colonial difference, referring to the North-South and/or
the racial divide created by centuries of European colonial exploitation. Grosfuguel
(2002) explains “To speak from the subaltern side of the colonial difference forces
us to look at the world from angles and points of view critical of hegemonic per-
spectives” (p. 209). Thinking and doing peace from below is an act of epistemic
disobedience, a challenge to the hegemonic view that “credible” thinking on peace
can only be done by the people “from above.”
With the aim of undoing epistemic violence in Peace Psychology, this volume
presents a vivid collection of peace visions and praxis from different parts of the
world, from people representing the other side of the colonial difference. It includes
contributions from New Zealand, South Korea, Iran, Pakistan, Palestine, Germany,
Canada, Cameroon, and the United States. In keeping with the purpose of this proj-
ect, a bottom-up approach was adopted to collect voices of the marginalized/racial-
ized scholars from different locations. Instead of starting with a fixed framework, I
asked the contributors to speak in their own way, and eventually a colorful pluriver-
sal picture emerged out of this collection. Most contributions in this volume tend to
fall under the Liberation Psychology umbrella. Liberation Psychology views
oppression “as the interaction of intrapsychic factors with systemic factors, such as
sociopolitical injustice” (Comas-Diaz & Rivera, 2020; p. 3). With its origins in the
emancipatory movements of Latin America and works of scholars like Paulo Freire
and Martin Baro, Liberation Psychology belongs to a wide spectrum of decoloniz-
ing theories and praxis that “recognize the legacy and continuing reality of the colo-
nization, exploitation, and domination of other places by Western Europe”
(Comas-Diaz & Rivera, 2020; p. 18). Liberation Psychology embraces an interdis-
ciplinary approach and keeps a close association with liberation philosophy, theol-
ogy, pedagogy, and praxis. It acknowledges knowledge as subjective, situated and
grounded in people’s lived experiences (Comas-Diaz & Rivera, 2020; p.44).
Montero and Sonn (2009) point out that Liberation Psychology challenges domi-
nant theory and practice of Peace Psychology, especially the conflict management
and resolution approaches informed by Western liberalism, that seek to reduce ten-
sions in conflictual relationships, without questioning the broader social order that
Introduction: Let Me Be Fully Human 3
causes them. This volume is a move away from the dominant liberal peace praxis
towards the subaltern liberatory peace agenda.
So, what does it mean to become fully human under systems that create differ-
ence among human beings? The following section points towards some possible
directions, offered by Liberation Psychology. But first, it examines key problems of
modern Psychology, identified earlier by scholars from below.
Of Psychological Science and Human Beings
What does a man want?

What does the black man want?
At the risk of arousing the resentment of my colored brothers,
I will say that the black is not a man (Fanon, 2008, p. 1, emphasis added).
As a black man, Fanon was acutely aware of the violent conditions that make
him less human than others. As a Psychiatric, trained in France, he tried to practice
what he learnt, in an Algerian hospital during the Algerian war of independence that
vehemently sought liberation from French occupation. This experience made him
fully aware of the necessity of examining the social conditions of his patients.
Fanon’s work is a vivid description of the tense social conditions that define a colo-
nial world and how these conditions constitute the colonizing and colonized self
(Butts, 1979).
The discipline we call Psychology emerged as a science during the late nine-
teenth century along with modern medicine and sexology. The colonial context of
the nineteenth century informed these disciplines as they sought “to understand,
measure, categorize, and rank” individuals along biological lines (Distiller, 2022).
Despite different strands of Psychology that emerged in the twentieth century, dom-
inant Psychology remained preoccupied with “hypotheses, laboratories, equipment,
observation, measurements, experiments and the use of scientific method to formu-
late and test objective facts about human behavior” (18). Distiller (2022) points out
that from humanities perspective, science is not “a way to access unmediated truth,”
rather it is “a technology of truth creation” (18). Oppressive systems operate through
the creation and normalization of artificial binaries and boundaries among people.
Psychology has been used to highlight differences and create and assert boundaries
rather than connections among human beings (Distiller, 2022). The discipline
revolves around the Western notion of human being which is founded on a system
of artificially created, hierarchically ordered binaries (self/other; good/bad; white/
black; master/slave; male/female; subject/object) that refuse to see complicit, non-
binary nature of human beings. The neat order of things defines the Western liberal
world. Distiller (2022) characterizes modern liberal self in the following words:
A liberal subject is one who requires sameness in his relationships, who cannot truly toler-
ate difference. He is born from the Enlightenment’s valorization of the rational, self-
enclosed individual, a mind who can and should know and control himself – and thus, a
4 F. W. Sajjad
subject fundamentally alienated from the capacity to handle encounters with the otherness
that is central to what it means to be human ( p. 43)
One cannot overlook the fact that the liberal slogan “all men are born equal” was
never compatible with the reality of racism, colonialism, genocide, and slavery. The
Enlightenment scholars raised slogans of rights, liberty, and freedom at a time when
Europeans were committing massacres and enslaving people in other lands. Mills
(1997) points out that the Enlightenment scholars refused to see the reality of racial/
colonial exploitation and reserved all newly constructed rights and liberties for the
category of full persons only – the White liberal self. Race, according to Mills
(1997), was an effective technology of power, created and deployed to create the
modern world where White supremacy was a norm. The idea of racial difference – a
group of people (coded as Whites) having rights and status of full persons while
others (non-Whites) having a different and inferior status of sub-persons – formed
the basis of the modern world.
According to Distiller (2022), the liberal self recognized the humanity of others,
but it did not recognize their inherent equality. The others could become equally
human only when they became more like the liberal self. The liberal self repre-
sented what it meant to be human.
Psychology and other Social Sciences were built on these foundations. The ele-
vation of the scientific method as a guarantor of truth and knowledge was backed by
certain assumptions about the capacities of the knowing subject (the researcher) and
the object to be known (the researched). Both were not equal in the process of sci-
entific investigation. The method allowed “the subject to produce and secure true
knowledge about the object – that is, objective knowledge” (Maldonado-Torres,
2017; p. 432). With Psychology, the idea that human mind is not only the subject but
also the object of scientific research became solidified. Subsequently, this form of
Western scientific enquiry acquired a “normative status” and led to the dismissal of
other forms of knowledge, a development termed as epistemicide by Santos (2015).
Maldonado-Torres (2017) points out that epistemic and ontological colonization
happened side by side as a result of “the search for objectivity through methodic
science” (p. 433). The coloniality of being, power, and knowledge originated and
evolved in tandem, creating and normalizing differences among human beings.
In the 1960s, Martin Luther King pointed out some deep rooted connections
between structural oppression and psychology, in a historic speech to the American
Psychological Association. He offered a “radical revisioning of psychological sci-
ence and practice to address oppression.” Around the same time, Fanon pointed out
how scientific explanations miss structural racism and oppression that form indi-
viduals’ psyche. He suggested ways to make Psychology more aware of the impact
of structural violence on individuals. The pleas of Fanon and King, however, were
largely ignored by the Psychological Scientists of their times (Desai et al., 2023).
Peace Psychology remains connected to the broader historical context of
Psychology. Law and Bretherton (2017) point out how Psychology was developed
by affluent and educated scholars from the Global North. The life context and expe-
riences of these scholars sharply differed from the experiences of the Southern
scholars, who lived through colonial exploitation and who continue to live under
conditions of disadvantage. Contemporary neoliberal systems of knowledge pro-
duction have added to this disadvantage. The neo-liberal systems view “credible”
knowledge as “something that can be possessed, patented, traded, ranked and mea-
sured” (p. 22); hence they undermine knowledge rooted in the lived experiences of
the Southern scholars. The institutional promotion of “psychology as a science”
strengthens this particular view of knowledge and contributes in marginalizing and
discrediting other forms of knowledge from the South, such as “folklore and spiri-
tual rituals that are richly expressed in oral, visual, or ceremonial forms” (p. 23).
Highlighting the North-South imbalance of Psychology knowledge making, Law
and Bretherton (2017) call for an open approach towards “other paradigms and
ways of looking at the world” (p. 29). As cited earlier, Christie et al. (2017) make a
similar plea for Peace Psychology.
Answering these calls from the Peace Psychologists, this volume makes an effort
to open space for Southern voices, experiences, and knowledges in Peace
Psychology. In fact, it takes a step further and views the problem(s) of peace from
the location of the Global South. From this position of disadvantage, we consider,
what does it mean to be fully human under conditions of oppression?
We find some answers in the principles of Liberation Psychology. To us, being
fully human entails being able to see and think clearly under conditions of oppres-
sion (conscientization), being able to speak/state what we see (problematization),
being able to act to transform conditions of oppression (praxis), and being able to
visualize peaceful conditions while confronting violence. This book offers the
visions and praxis of liberation that help people from below become more
fully human.
The book is divided into three parts that disrupt dominant discourses of Peace
Psychology as they center the voices and agency of the subaltern scholars (Comas-
Diaz & Rivera, 2020; p. 44). The first part titled Reimagining Peace from below
offers peace visions of scholars residing in Eastern locations of the globe that tran-
scend mainstream Western notions of peace. This part includes two chapters that
offer two distinctive visions of liberatory peace; in the first chapter, Ksenija Napan
shares her unique story and imagines pluriversal possibilities of peace. She contem-
plates ways to live life with Earth as opposed to life on Earth. The chapter embraces
images, music, and poetry, as it freely imagines creative possibilities of peace on
Earth. The second chapter describes Muhammad Iqbal’s vision of spiritually guided
peace. Iqbal was a renowned poet and philosopher from the early twentieth century
British India whose poetry and thought carry powerful messages of resistance and
liberation. Iqbal’s poetry remains widely popular among the “previously” colonized
Urdu-, Hindi-, and Persian-speaking people, and it earned him the title of “the poet
of the East.” Focusing on the peculiar positionality of Iqbal, as a Muslim thinker in
British India, Sohaib Ali explores how this proponent of reformist neo-traditionalism
from the East gets into an active dialogue with the West without losing his grip on
Islamic ethical norms and spirituality.
The second part of the book titled Transformational Resistance to undo
Oppression provides a glimpse of multifarious struggles of racialized, marginalized,
6 F. W. Sajjad
silenced, and traumatized people in different parts of the world against direct and
systemic violence in their locations. The oppressive systems exist in the North as
well as in the South. The volume intends to narrate stories of oppression and resis-
tance connected to Western colonialism and coloniality without losing sight of the
oppression connected to the Southern ruling elite.
The first chapter in this section tells the story of Cheju island in South Korea, a
heavily militarized “demilitarized zone” that has a long legacy of brutal atrocities
committed in the name of national security. Merose Hwang describes how secret
spiritual ceremonies in Korea serve as a source of solace for the local communities
who live with the traumatic memory of their ancestors’ mass murders. Hwang
examines Cheju Island’s community rituals to commemorate “April Third
Massacre.” She describes how these rituals support healing of the local community
and stimulate resistance against hegemonic cold war narratives and systems.
The next chapter highlights resistance of the peasant movement in Okara district
of Pakistan, against military landlordism, which is a relic of the British Raj in India.
The military control of the agricultural land in Okara reveals how colonial legacies
continue to live and thrive in “post-colonial” lands. The old systems are eagerly
inherited and diligently maintained by the local ruling elite. Muhammad Qasim
gives a detailed description of the peasants’ resistance under the banner of Anjuman
Muzareen Punjab (Tenants Association of Punjab). This ethnographic study offers
a rich account of the culture of resistance in Okara, as reflected in popular poetry,
jokes, slogans, slang, and anecdotes of resistance among the peasants.
Next, Ivania Delgado explores traces of systemic oppression in higher education
by collecting testimonies of psychology and social work students in Miami. This
study is based on Ivania’s personal experience as an educator and student. She
explains how, as a student in Miami, she had to consume the myth of meritocracy
every day and how her educational and clinical training in psychology taught her to
be ahistorical and apolitical. These discourses denied her lived experience as a bilin-
gual woman of color. As an educator of psychology and mental health, Ivania
strongly advocates an education that recognizes students’ lived experiences, which
makes them feel seen, acknowledged, and included.
The next chapter by Bernardita Yunis and Tiera Tanksley is a counter story that
challenges “the apartheid of knowledge that exists in academia around Palestinian
experience.” Using the framework of the Critical Race Theory, the authors consider
how counter stories are used by the Palestinians as an act of transformational resis-
tance to “defy death, silencing, and erasure” and to “catalyze hope, healing, and
futurity.” The authors point out that peace, for Palestinians, means “transforma-
tional survivance practices in the face of colonial erasure.”
The following chapter examines colonial roots of contemporary language poli-
cies in Canada and Cameroon. Eric Keunne, Achille Fossi, and Munjeera Jefford
observe how colonizers’ languages English and French continue to have an elevated
status as compared to the native languages in both countries. The conflictual and
inadequate language policies have resulted in violent clashes in these locations. The
authors point out how the continuing preference for the colonizers’ languages indi-
cates internalized oppression that sustains linguistic hegemonies.
The third part of the volume is titled Problematizing Hegemonic Discourses. It

includes contributions that challenge dominant discourses in political and academic
spaces. Problematization is a key principle of Liberation Psychology as identified
by Comas-Díaz and Rivera (2020). It remains tied to the process of conscientization
that leads to change.
The first chapter in this part of the book, titled “When a coup is not a coup: The
stolen narrative of the Iranian revolution” by Mehmood Delkhasteh, can potentially
change popular perceptions about Iranian Revolution. It tells the story of Iran’s first
elected President Abolhassan Banisadr, who was overthrown in June 1981 by the
revolutionary government on charges of incompetence. Delkhasteh problematizes
the official Iranian narrative on this important episode of Iranian history. He also
questions the wider acceptance of this official narrative by Western scholars. He
explains how Banisadr’s story challenges the orientalist assumptions of Western
scholars who refuse to see anything beyond despotism and oppression in the Islamic
discourses. This chapter is a counter hegemonic narrative that will unsettle popular
discourses on Iranian Revolution.
The last two chapters problematize academic discourses of International
Relations and the way they are projected, consumed, and reproduced in post-
colonial spaces like Pakistan.
Ahmed Waqas Waheed uses insights from liberation Psychology and his lived
experience as a Pakistani academic, to examine structures of knowledge production
in Pakistan. He observes how Pakistani academics uncritically adopt and reproduce
hegemonic discourses of International Relations and how publication policies in the
country reinforce Western ascendancy in research and education. Alatas’ notion of
“captive mind” explains the prevalence of uncritical approaches in Pakistani aca-
demia. Captive mind in education blocks promising possibilities of knowledge cre-
ation in the country.
Wajeeh ul Hasan and Fatima Sajjad reexamine dominant narratives of
International Relations. They explore colonial roots and racial undertones of the
discipline that continues to inform and shape global politics and policies. The chap-
ter highlights how International Relations (IR) as a discipline is barely international,
as it conveniently ignores the voices and experiences of a large part of the globe –
the Global South. The chapter reviews the onset of decolonial perspectives in IR and
how they challenge the mainstream of the discipline.
References
Blaney, D. L., & Inayatullah, N. (2009). International Relations from below. In The Oxford hand-
book of international relations.
Butts, H. F. (1979). Frantz Fanon’s contribution to psychiatry: The psychology of racism and colo-
nialism. Journal of the National Medical Association, 71(10), 1015.
Christie, D. J., Seedat, M., & Suffla, S. (2017). Toward a socially transformative peace psychol-
ogy: Overview of the symposium and proceedings. In Enlarging the scope of peace psychology
(pp. 3–17).
8 F. W. Sajjad
Comas-Díaz, L. E., & Rivera, T. (2020). Liberation psychology: Theory, method, practice, and
social justice (pp. xx–314). American Psychological Association.
Desai, M. U., Laubscher, L., & Johnson, S. (2023). Perspectives (of people of color) on psy-
chological science: Does psychological science listen? Review of General Psychology, 27(2),
155–163.
Distiller, N. (2022). Complicities: A theory for subjectivity in the psychological humanities
(p. 265). Springer Nature.
Fanon, F. (2008). Black skin, white masks. Grove press.
Galtung, J. (1969). Violence, peace and peace research. Journal of Peace Research, 6(3), 167–191.
Grosfoguel, R. (2002). Colonial difference, geopolitics of knowledge, and global coloniality in the
modern/colonial capitalist world-system. Review (Fernand Braudel Center), 203–224.
Law, S. F., & Bretherton, D. (2017). The imbalance between knowledge paradigms of north
and south: Implications for peace psychology. In Enlarging the scope of peace psychology
(pp. 19–36). Springer.
Maldonado-Torres, N. (2017). Frantz Fanon and the decolonial turn in Psychology. South African
Journal of Psychology, 47(4), 432–441.
Mignolo, W. D. (2005). Prophets facing sidewise: The geopolitics of knowledge and the colonial
difference. Social Epistemology, 19(1), 111–127.
Mills, C. (1997). The Racial Contract.
Montero, M., & Sonn, C. C. (Eds.). (2009). Psychology of liberation: Theory and applications.
Springer Science + Business Media.
Santos, de Souza B. (2015). Epistemologies of the South: Justice against epistemicide. Routledge.
Spivak, G. C. (1999). Can the subaltern speak? Harvard University Press.
Fatima Waqi Sajjad is the founding Director of the Center for Critical Peace Studies and
Associate Professor at the University of Management and Technology Lahore. Her work questions
epistemic violence and injustice in Peace Studies and beyond. She is the author of “A subaltern
gaze on White ignorance, (in) security and the possibility of educating the White rescue plans”
(2023). Security Dialogue; “On the delusion of disobedience amid coloniality: location Pakistan”
(2023). Third World Quarterly; “Rethinking education to counter violent extremism: a critical
review of policy and practice” (2022). Ethics and Education, 17(1).
Part I
Reimagining Peace from Below
Restoring Peace as If Our Life Depends
on It (as It Does!)
Ksenija Napan
Abbreviations
DSM 5 Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders

IONS Institute of Noetic Sciences
DNA Deoxyribonucleic acid
I ntroduction to the Context or Ko wai au? (Who

Am I and What Is My Context?)
I woke up with a song ringing in my ears. It was Angelique Kidjo’s song Mother
Nature. The lyrics roll over her tongue and she’s got a determined look. Angelique
Kidjo means it (Kidjo et al., 2021).
When I wake up with a tune ringing in my ears, I always check the lyrics as there
is often an important message from my dream state. This one was shouting at me:
Wake up, stand up!!! I love how determined Angelique Kidjo is and the frequency
of her voice confirms it, yet she dances and there is this unity in the dichotomy of a
dead serious song with light-heartedness and joy of dancing together. A famous
musician Sting features in a way (I guess) a white, middle-class man should; he is
in the background in black and white, supporting with his famousness, but not
standing in the first row nor overpowering with his presence, tone of voice, or
demeanour. Sting represents what the people of his influence should do; sit in the
K. Napan (*)
College of Health, School of Social Work, Massey University,
Auckland, Aotearoa, New Zealand
e-mail: K.Napan@massey.ac.nz

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-41965-2_2
12 K. Napan
background and support in whichever way their power allows them. This is the first
step towards peace, decolonization and the restoration of balance.
Life is in movement, and stillness gives birth.
We need each other!
Let me start this chapter with who I am and how personal, political, professional,
cultural, and spiritual intersect in my life and work. I am using a traditional Māori
way of introduction because although I am not Māori, Aotearoa (New Zealand) is
my home. Although I never felt truly welcomed by English colonisers, even though
they signed my immigration documents, I felt deeply and warmly welcomed by
Māori. The welcome happened through relationships, in my dreams, through art and
music, carvings, and a strange sense of connection to my own ancestors while sens-
ing the presence of Māori ancestors in Aotearoa. It happened physically when a
teaching Marae1 Te Noho Kotahitanga with its wharenui2 Ngākau Māhaki got
opened at Unitec where I worked at a time, and I was privileged to teach a Master
of Social Practice course called Spirituality and Social Practice. The experience of
cocreating learning with students from all over the world and wharenui herself that
held space for us, inspired us, and enabled transformative learning was incompara-
ble to any other teaching I have ever done.3
My home is in a country that was discovered by master way-finders who trav-
elled the oceans navigating by stars, being guided by their ancestral wisdom, and
intuition, trusting their sense of knowing. On their journeys, they discovered a beau-
tiful land they named Aotearoa – A land of a long white cloud that became their
home. I resonate with the Indigenous beliefs of my chosen country and feel and
respect the beliefs, values, and communication with nature including a deep con-
nection to Papatūānuku (Mother Earth) and Ranginui (Sky Father). When I landed
on these shores, I was overwhelmed by its beauty, aliveness, and a spiritual sense of
serenity I have never experienced before (Table 1).
I am starting by introducing myself in Te Reo Māori (Māori language) because
Aotearoa (New Zealand) is the country of my choice and the first country in which
I truly felt at home. By being engaged and immersed in another culture, I learned
about my own more than what I learned from my biological family while living in
Croatia, which used to be a part of Yugoslavia. The second column is in English, for
the majority to understand. As much as English has been a colonizing language, it
also enabled humans to communicate across continents. I am grateful to have a
second language that enables me to communicate almost wherever I go. I always
wonder if the world would be a very different place if humans travelled with an open
1
A marae is a communal and sacred place that serves cultural and social purposes in Māori society.
It represents a place to stand and engenders a sense of home and belonging.
2
The most beautiful of all buildings within the marae is the wharenui (whare) or carved meeting
house. A wharenui resembles the human body in structure and usually represents a particular
ancestor of the tribe.
3
More about the history of this amazing place of reciprocal learning can be found here: https://
www.unitec.ac.nz/maori/who-we-are/te-noho-kotahitanga-marae
Restoring Peace as If Our Life Depends on It (as It Does!) 13
Table 1 Who am I?
In te reo Māori In English In Croatian
Tēnā koutou katoa Greetings to all Pozdrav svima
Ko Medvednica te maunga Medvednica(Bear Mountain) is my Medvednica je moja
Ko Sava te awa mountain planina
Ko rererangi Air New Sava is my river Sava je moja rijeka
Zealand Boeing 777 te Air New Zealand plane is the vessel Air New Zealand avion
waka that brought me to Aotearoa (New me doveo na Novi Zeland.
Ko Ngāti Pākehā te iwi Zealand) Moje pleme je svijetle
Ko tangata Tarara the hapu My tribe is light-skinned puti.
Ko Te Noho Kotahitanaga My ancestors are coming from the Moji pretci su s Balkana
te marae Balkans by the Adriatic sea blizu Jadranskog mora.
Ko Ngākau Māhaki te Te Noho Kotahitanga is my marae Moja marae je Te Noho
wharenui Ngakau Mahaki is my place of Kotahitanga.
Ko Ksenija Napan tōku communion U Ngākau Mahaki
ingoa Ksenija Napan is my name obnavljam moju dušu.
nō reira, tēnā koutou, tēnā Greetings to everyone Moje ime je Ksenija
koutou tēnā koutou katoa Napan
Lijep pozdrav svima
heart, curiosity, and humbleness as opposed to the intention of conquering, subju-

gating, and diminishing.
The last column is in my mother tongue. By reading it, any person from any part
of former Yugoslavia will know that I am coming from Croatia, from Zagreb, the
capital city where the mountain is in the North, and the river in the South divides the
old and new parts of the town. This divide represents the ‘local South’ and the ‘local
North’ of my cultural heritage including the in-between part where life and learning
happen. Introducing myself with my mountain and my river also speaks about my
ecological heart and my connectedness to Earth and the flow of her waters. This
worldview goes beyond the shackles of nationality and represents my grounding in
the place where I was born yet allows my spirit to roam free and feel grounded in
my chosen home. This duality is not a binary; grounding and freedom sit together
enabling me to fully express myself as I am and in my natural flow. It resembles
Antonovsky’s (1987) notion of the sense of coherence which enables people to
remain healthy in challenging and stressful situations. It builds on the importance of
the ability to find meaning and purpose in extraordinary circumstances (Frankl,
2014). This is a deeply spiritual endeavour, yet devoid of any religious dogma or
colonising impositions of exclusively external deity. This perspective does not deny
the external deity, it just transcends ‘either – or’ binary thinking and replaces it with
‘and also’ while uniting seemingly dichotomous binaries and enabling genuine idio-
syncratic understandings to emerge. It seems essential to shift focus from patholo-
gizing to salutogenesis (Antonovsky, 1987) to enable people from all parts of the
world to create meaningful connections through an active process of engagement
with personal, professional, cultural, political, and spiritual life. This process is
deeply grounded in the indigenous soul of every human (that for some may have
been deeply buried), and it allows transcendence that can be liberated from social
and cultural impositions.
14 K. Napan
Concepts of liberation psychology (Torres Rivera, 2020) resonate with my

beliefs, more specifically terminology like deideologizing (when people can con-
struct their reality by critically reflecting and questioning the ‘reality’ imposed by
those in power), denaturalization (when interests of power dynamics within society
are questioned), and problematization (when through critical reflection interests of
those in power are challenged) are closely linked to the process of conscientization
which enables raising conscience which I believe is a prerequisite of moving for-
ward and creating a socially just, sustainable, culturally, and spiritually respectful
world. Through intuitive, yet critical thinking, feeling, sensing, and doing, a new
paradigm may emerge which has the potential of bringing forth the world and not
only create a single change in a single location but transform the perception of real-
ity worldwide.
This process comforts the disturbed and disturbs the comfortable (Cruz, 1997),
and just like in Cruz’s poem To Comfort the Disturbed, and to Disturb the
Comfortable: Onward Children of the Sun, the comfort comes from processing the
trauma and coming back home, to our true Indigenous.
Whenever asked, if pressed, I declare myself a mongrel, just like my dog (and I
love dogs). My ancestors are coming from the Balkans and are connected to the
Adriatic Sea and numerous rivers that flow and merge with it. My heritage was not
something to be proud of or spoken loudly about as every 40 years another war
swipes through the territory and winners re-write the history. Oppression, discrimi-
nation, violence, ridicule, and changing rules are common and taken as normal. I
was brought up believing that it is more important to live your life with integrity
than what your ‘pedigree’ says. I was brought up to be a citizen of the world because
my mother believed that it is safer for me not to be upfront about my heritage and
stay under the radar, protected with the umbrella of humanity and equality, bringing
me up to be fit for the world she was hoping to come: a world of equality, prosperity,
and fulfilment. I later discovered that one cannot become a citizen of the world
before discovering their own roots first. And my roots were wobbly, weak, polluted
and a bit rotten. Yugoslavia, the country of my birth does not exist anymore. It was
destroyed in a bloody war during which neighbours were killing neighbours, broth-
ers were killing sisters, families were falling apart because of political or national
disagreements, and while the part of the country I used to call home (Croatia) cel-
ebrated independence and freedom from the ‘socialist oppression’, I was grieving
for my happy childhood and youth knowing that Yugoslavia was a very special
experiment heading the movement of non-alignment (Stubbs, 2023) and a refusal to
belong to the artificial polarity of the East and West during the cold war period and
beyond. Although Yugoslavia itself does not exist anymore and got shattered into
six seemingly independent tiny countries (striving to become part of the European
Union with more or less success), the land, its mountains, rivers, and sea remained
amazingly beautiful, and I still feel a deep connection with the frequency they ema-
nate feeling deeply touched and connected every time I visit or reminisce.
Mother Earth transcends our political disagreements, possessiveness, and dis-
crimination fuelled by national pride. Growing up within the Yugoslavian experi-
ment of political unalignment allowed me to have free education all the way to the
Master’s degree, free healthcare, an intrinsic value of equity that often got chal-
lenged (Massey et al., 1995), the sense of freedom of expression and being able to
travel with a highly valued passport, and deeply ingrained worldview that the needs
of the community are equally important as the needs of individuals. If the commu-
nity is rotten, individuals cannot thrive and vice versa. I travelled a lot and was curi-
ous about how culture shapes perception and beliefs and how in turn those beliefs
shape the life that we experience. I refused to belong to any religion but had my
personal connection with God and a life force that permeates all living beings.
When I was growing up, capitalist countries looked superficial and glitzy, and com-
munism seemed oppressive and uniformed, but the socialism I lived under was far
from ideal. As a young person, I was protesting against the flaws of socialism yet
was very aware of the runaway train of rampant capitalism based on a wrong
assumption that the profit of a few individuals will eventually benefit a community
and that wealth from the top will miraculously trickle down. From an early age, I
was aware of how the use and discard philosophy is systematically destroying the
planet and how my country was a dumping ground for rubbish from the West (aka
Global North). During the war in 1990s, we received tons of expired medicines
from rich countries including second-hand prosthetic legs and arms (!), and then
when we dumped it all to pollute our rivers, war profiteers came! Lots of researchers
and do-gooders wanted to establish their agencies, extract knowledge for their
research, and leave more devastation than what they found all under the assumption
of good intentions – ‘Let’s help poor primitive Balkaneros, establish a few social
service agencies (while neglecting what already existed) and buy some of their land
for cheap while we are here!’ My country got colonised by stealth. Some parts of
what used to be my country became luxury holiday places and investment opportu-
nities for rich Europeans, and some other parts became waste dumps. Locals started
selling the land and houses that belonged to their ancestors for centuries and started
moving to richer European countries to do jobs not requiring qualifications they
earned over the years. When they were lucky enough to get jobs they specialised in,
they would be much less paid and often ridiculed for their accent or non-
individualistic way of thinking. Croats, Serbs, Macedonians, Monte Negrans,
Slovenians and Bosnians share their food, offer drinks, and are extremely hospita-
ble, and this is rarely reciprocated in the West. Short-term well-being of the indi-
vidual will be sacrificed for the long-term well-being of the community.
Individualistic capitalist beliefs seem to do the opposite. Being positioned between
the East and the West, some learned to navigate these polarities and some stayed
perpetually confused.
I was aware how in the Western world or so-called Global North, the banks were
built looking like temples of the twentieth century with humans pledging their alle-
giance to the money god. I never understood why an old lady with 10 cats and mil-
lion books is called a hoarder but a billionaire with ten mansions is perceived
as successful. Charity always felt condescending, and becoming a social worker for
me meant transforming society and preventing social problems, not trying to fix
people and make them fit into the system. Living in a socialist country, we were
aware of numerous inequalities and injustices that still existed, as well as that there
16 K. Napan
was a lot of room for growth; however, I realized that socialism deeply penetrated
my skin only when I worked in the USA. I was shocked that women there were paid
less than men for the same job and was surprised when I saw massive gaps between
rich and poor unseen in Yugoslavia. Racism, classism, and homophobia were pal-
pable, and although talks about money and religion were avoided, being rich,
Christian, having a proper accent, and anglicizing every Latin word meant being
educated. In contrast, in Croatia, anglicizing Latin words signified intellectual snob-
bism and lack of education. I was surprised how professional people were strictly
specialized but not knowledgeable about the wider world or how things connect and
are interrelated. Knowledge was commodified and individualized. Social workers
would specialize in working with, for example, people with eating disorders but
were reluctant to do anything about the media, propaganda, and political context
that contributed to it and would focus on fixing people, but not the system, support-
ing force-feeding and maintenance of physical life without addressing the roots of
the problem. In those days, the capitalist system was perceived as sacrosanct, but
socialism was criticized without them even knowing much about it. I have noticed a
similar supremacist attitude towards mental illness, and since I was in the USA after
completing my master’s in social psychiatry, I could not believe how individualistic
and therapy-oriented social work practice was. In a country where social work
gained its professional status, there was not much social left.
There were almost more spies than people in communist countries and there were almost
more psychotherapists than people in capitalism.
Is this the same social control, just different means? Why is fear used to seemingly
maintain peace?
Are we devolving or evolving?
Although the USA prides itself in being a democracy, I was unable to see any
critical reflection on their political system, and the majority perceived the system
they lived in as perfect while having deeply ingrained prejudices about other parts
of the world. They organized an interview with me at a local radio station asking me
a number of offensive questions showing their complete ignorance about anything
outside of their local area of interest. I was not offended but truly puzzled about how
people with so little knowledge can be so self-assuredly arrogant and make so many
assumptions about my country and the rest of the world. That was quite some time
ago and I hope I would have a different general perception if I worked in the USA
today. The Internet widened people’s horizons and I hope the majority knows the
difference between communism, socialism, capitalism, feudalism, and slavery now.
Or maybe not? Is individualism creating arrogance and confidence on hollow legs,
enabling people to trump the planet and each other without any regard or awareness
of the importance of the whole and the community?
When did the reverence for life disappear?
I also noticed that the deeply individualistic approach to any problem was fuelled
by funding that encouraged it. When humans are pathologized, and when profes-
sionals are paid for every minute of the service they provide, it is not likely that
these professionals would put much effort into changing the system or making
themselves redundant because that system works well for them. This obsession with
fixing the individual to fit the system maintains the perpetuation of the colonial
mentality (Kuti, 1977), deeply ingrained racism, prejudices, and a literal under-
standing of holy books from monotheistic religions without engaging in any type of
critical thinking and contextualisation.
iberating Oppressed, Oppressors, and In-Betweeners

L
Through Decolonising Minds, Bodies and Souls
Coloniality is a system of devaluation that corrosively eats away sovereignty, personal

worth, ancestral wisdom, and hope.
In my Universe, decolonization is a personal, professional, political, cultural, and

spiritual process through which colonizers acknowledge the harm done by their
ancestors and become aware of the privilege and advantage they still enjoy today at
the expense of indigenous people and the planetary resources they exploit. Humans
realize how damaging the imposition of beliefs and ways of being is and how it is
still hurting generations of indigenous peoples all around the world as well as the
damage it is doing to descendants of colonizers, their families, communities, and
societies. Humans become aware that there is a belief system that enabled this level
of discrimination to rule the world, and they consciously chose to replace it with
belief systems grounded in their own ancestral lands or, if they cannot trace it, adopt
a system that resonates with the depth of their being without misappropriating it.
Decolonizing requires raising the consciousness of the colonizer to become aware of the
damage coloniality has done to them, as well as to the communities they oppress either
historically or currently.
Coloniality, like any system of exercising power-over, is built on the same principles
as patriarchy. Women have liberated themselves through processes of deideologiz-
ing, denaturalization, and problematization that led to conscientization (Torres
Rivera, 2020), but it seems that men are still lagging behind, still wearing suits and
uniforms, and exercising power-over. Until men realise how patriarchy harms them,
they will consciously or unconsciously maintain the status quo. The same goes for
racism, homophobia, disablism, speciesism, exploitation of Earth and her atmo-
sphere, and all other discriminatory beliefs that exercise power-over instead of
power-with. The ones who are oppressed will naturally employ all strategies to
resist, rebel, boycott, ridicule, transform, connect with like-minded, and heal their
wounds through art, political action, and resistance. Oppressor, on the contrary, is
so drunk on their power that they rarely notice how damaging the act of oppressing
has been for them, their children, and those whom they oppressed. Power-with is an
antithesis of power-over, and it includes consensus reaching, restoration of harms
done, collaborative teaching and learning processes, non-binary gender equality,
ecologically sustainable living, and appreciation of indigenous wisdom. These ways
18 K. Napan
of being benefit all, not only those in power or of the preferable skin colour (or lack
of), class, caste, or gender.
Atuire and Bull (2022) acknowledge the multilayered nature of colonialism and
offer a three-dimensional approach to decolonization with hegemonic, epistemic,
and commitmental elements which include but are not limited to a shift of power
and decision-making to local communities, revisiting intellectual and cultural mod-
els and making conscious decisions to engage and be accountable to local commu-
nities. This approach may eventually create a shift in the consciousness of the
population; however, a simultaneous paradigm shift may facilitate a global move-
ment that would reflect in all aspects of human life where power-over prevents
empowerment of all life on Earth to flourish.
Global and local are not polarities; they are part of the unifying way of perceiv-
ing reality where they become equally important in addressing global and local
challenges we face.
Are we colonizers of the Earth or are we her indigenous children?
I deeply resonated with Māori and many other Indigenous cultures and beliefs
because I always believed that Earth is alive and that intelligence is universal, but
that biology determines its expression. In other words, if I were a snail, I would do
what snails do as my biology would determine my perception and the expression of
my life force (Napan, 2002). Māori call that life force or essence of life mauri which
is present in all beings including rivers and mountains. Recognizing the essence of
life and its multiplicity of manifestations evokes reverence (Schweitzer, 2017).
Reverence is a feeling, it is a sense of awe that includes respect, appreciation,
amazement, and grace. Reverence invokes peace and cherishes life. If colonizers
just allowed themselves to feel and get to know the people of the land, the new civi-
lization they would build would integrate the best of all worlds. However, their
belief system and the idea of them being superior (while their deeds demonstrated
their inferiority) created many years of grievances, preventing the natural growth of
indigenous societies, and infliction of enormous pain and trauma.
I was born with the belief that humans are not on the top of some imaginary
hierarchical ladder. I see life being a multidimensional spiral, not a flat line, and I
experience all beings being more like flickering sparkles of light than mere slabs of
meat. I also perceive life as being in constant motion, transformation, and flow.
If life manifests in movement and stillness gives birth, we cannot perceive movement and
stillness as binaries. They are complementary.
The principle of interdependence and relationality aligns with the notion of ubuntu
(Oppenheim, 2012) expanded to all life, not only humans. I am because you are
(and this includes all beings, perceivable and not perceivable to the limited human
senses).
The planetary fact that one being’s waste product is another being’s lunch enables
Earth to be a self-generating, self-regulating, and self-sustaining organism. Earth
does not only harbour life, Earth and her atmosphere is life. The more we are in
coherence with Earth’s rhythms, the more we are in coherence with our own. The
more we live in accord with our beliefs, needs, and wishes, the better we realize the
importance of collaboration, sharing, giving, and contributing to the community and
the life of the planet.
Māori philosopher and educator Joseph Selwyn Te Rito describes it coherently.
It is to do with that sense of being essentially at one with nature and our environment, rather
than at odds with it. As tangata whenua we are people of the land – who have grown out of
the land, Papatūānuku, our Earth Mother. Having knowledge of whakapapa4 helps ground
us to the earth. We have a sense of belonging here, a sense of purpose, a raison d’etre,
which extends beyond the sense of merely existing on this planet. (Te Rito, 2007, p. 4)
This understanding resonates with David Suzuki’s thought that our perception
determines the way we treat the world around us (Suzuki et al., 2007). We will treat
a mountain and her ecosystem differently if we perceived her as a deity or as an
equal representation of life and not as a pile of dead rocks that we can recklessly
kick, dig into, and excavate whatever we can sell for a short-term profit. Years of
tyranny that the misinterpretation of holy books coming from monotheistic reli-
gions imposed on communities through colonization shaped the perception of the
world. Colonization was not only about physical subjugation, exploitation, and con-
fiscation of land, it was a process of spiritual violence that devalued centuries of
sustainable belief systems and community organisation that existed before the inva-
sion of colonisers. Indigenous wisdom was perceived as primitive while colonisers
inflicted the most primitive violence on humans, animals, and ecosystems. Reverence
for life was replaced with instilling fear from a judgmental white, white-bearded
omnipotent invisible man looking down on humans imposing the idea of white man
supremacy over all other beings including women and non-white or homosexual
men, demanding obedience and mediocrity. This is not to romanticize pre-colonial
societies as human life has never been ideal, but to expose the primitivism and vio-
lence that was inflicted on communities around the world in the name of ‘prosper-
ity’, anthropocentrism, supremacy, and individualistic gains. Calling people of the
land primitive must have been a massive projection borne out of guilt colonizers
must have had deeply buried in their conscience.
It seems that the most difficult problems that face humanity now are self-inflicted.
‘Supreme’ humans inflict supreme violence on one another. Society that is guided
with the idea of financial profit being the main measure of its success inevitably
engages in the process of creating problems to create more profit. What is called
built obsolescence in the world of products turns into ineffective, dehumanising,
and meaningless services in the social arena. ‘Obsolete’ teachers, physicians,
nurses, social workers, mental health professionals, customer service people, and
many others can be replaced by Google, chat-bots, and other automated systems.
But, can they? It is not about replacement nor ‘either-or’, it is more about with and
alongside. Can we embrace technological advancement to enhance humanity, or
4
Whakapapa is a taxonomic framework that links all animate and inanimate, known and unknown
phenomena in the terrestrial and spiritual worlds. Whakapapa, therefore, binds all things (Te
Ara, 2022).
20 K. Napan
shall we allow technology to replace it with a consequence of the world becoming

dehumanised?
The social, economic, spiritual, and psychological situation humanity inflicted
on itself (and the rest of the life on the planet) requires a paradigm shift. This para-
digm shift, according to Suzuki et al. (2007), Macy (2014), Hawken (2021),
Acabado and Kuan (2021), Garan (2023), Wahinkpe Topa (2023), and many others,
requires perceiving us as part of the Earth, not as her mere custodians, exploiters,
visitors, or inhabitants. This thinking is not new, it is ancient and deeply ingrained
in our genetic and cultural makeup. Indigenous cultures around the world managed
to pass on that wisdom through stories, myths, songs, rituals, and dances. Everybody
is Indigenous somewhere; it is only that some have forgotten. Remembering in this
context means becoming members of a planetary alliance of all beings, even the
ones that we do not perceive as being alive (like rocks and viruses). This planetary
global awareness does not require globalization; instead, it requires strong local
communities based on reciprocity and mutual understanding with an awareness of
the importance of global issues.
If humans are not willing to learn from Indigenous wisdom, they can learn from
astronauts who came back from space with what they called a transformation-
overview effect5 after seeing Earth from a distance. It seems that some ancient
memory got reignited to the point that this paradigm shift inspired Edgar Mitchell
to establish the Institute of Noetic Sciences (IONS) after seeing Earth from the
Moon. Astronauts physically travelled, but travel to space is not necessary for this
transformation as people who experienced clinical death or other deeply transfor-
mational experiences have reported. Scientists in IONS claim that science has pro-
foundly changed the way we view reality, but there is so much more waiting to be
discovered. They use scientific exploration and personal discovery to push beyond
the current limits of human knowledge. It seems that Western science is re-
discovering what Indigenous stories have been telling us for a long time (Institute of
Noetic Sciences, 2023). Ron Garan (2023) emphasizes that instead of thinking that
the economy is most important, followed by society and then Earth, we should put
Earth first, then the benefit of the society, and only then the economy. Earth keeps
cycling and recycling all elements, and if we look at chemistry without being indoc-
trinated with human supremacy, we realize that we are all one in various forms of
manifestation. The notion of interdependence, as opposed to domination, extrac-
tion, and exploitation, is a planetary lifeline in the current state of the global eco-
logical, psychological, and societal crisis.
This position transcends the Western myth of individualistic and communal cul-
tures which presents another false binary as humans need to be individual as well as
5
This experience often described as spiritual and paradigm shifting impacts a person in a way that
they become aware of their love for Earth as a shared home with all its inhabitants. It was first
described by Frank White (1998) after interviewing and reading from 30 astronauts and cosmo-
nauts stating that the transcendent perspective, they experienced can be significantly transforma-
tive in building a more appreciative life on Earth causing a giant evolutionary leap in human
consciousness.
communal to survive. It is just that in financially poorer communities relying on

community members becomes more important for survival than in richer communi-
ties where services are bought and outsourced as opposed to being directly
exchanged. Commodification is one of the most corrosive features of capitalist soci-
eties as it alienates and creates an illusion that money can buy everything. With an
appreciation of the understanding that narrow specialisations have enabled numer-
ous advances in medicine and science, the idea that humans are generally selfish and
competitive and that the way to overcome it is by becoming more and more detached
from nature is very far from the historical fact that we evolved through communal
efforts, support of others, and collaboration. Being individualistic or communal is
not a binary, all beings need to have both characteristics to be able to flourish. The
problem with capitalism and its distribution of power is that it is blinded to the dis-
crepancy between how the system is envisaged and human nature (Bateson, 2020).
This dissonance contributes to the disbalance many humans experience and mani-
fest through a range of illnesses, alienation, numerous conflicts, and wars.
estoring the Damage Inflicted by Colonization: A Dream or

R
an Opportunity to Create a Better World for All?
It may seem impossible to restore the damage inflicted by colonization as wounds

are so deep and long-lasting that doing anything along those lines risks being
tokenistic, superficial, and to a wide extent irrelevant. Also, most humans who ben-
efitted from colonization suffer from a condition called ‘unconscious bias’ which is
a euphemism for deeply ingrained racism including a delusional sense of entitle-
ment. This condition causes a whole range of symptoms including an unusual lack
of perception and empathy, as well as an increased self-centeredness amplified with
righteousness, paternalistic attitude, fear, polarised thinking, and disconnect. This
serious condition should be listed in DSM 5,6 but unfortunately, not even extremely
violent outbursts of racism are listed there while psychological reactions to coping
with colonization in the form of mental illness, post-traumatic stress syndrome, or
addiction are all listed in the book supposedly dealing with diagnosing mental dis-
orders to be able to cure them. There have been attempts (for the last 40 years!!!) for
extreme racism to be included in DSM 5 (Poussaint, 2002) and even distinguish
extreme racism (resulting in massive shootings) from ‘ordinary prejudice’ and a
group of Black psychiatrists suggested to have extreme bigotry classified as a men-
tal disorder, but that was rejected under the explanation that:
6
DSM-5 (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) is the main guide for diagnosing
mental disorders and behavioral challenges in the U.S.A and in most of the “western” world. Its
latest version, the DSM-5-TR, was published in 2022. Over years, various conditions have been
added and taken out from this manual relative to the political climate and findings confirmed by
“western” science.
22 K. Napan
The association’s officials rejected the recommendation arguing that because so many
Americans are racist, even extreme racism in this country is normative – a cultural problem
rather than an indication of psychopathology. (Poussaint, 2002, p. 1)
It is interesting how even in this quote the term ‘American’ is used to depict a person
from the USA, ignoring the existence of Canada and Central and South American
countries. Normalising bigotry and racism instead of perceiving it as a delusional
disorder that can be dangerous to communities and the individual projecting it on
their environment leaves it to fester in communities and addresses it only when
extreme violence has been inflicted. On the other hand, ‘ordinary prejudice’
(whereas there is nothing ordinary with any prejudice) can be dealt with in educa-
tion and community engagement where consciousness-raising can help people of all
backgrounds to become aware of their prejudices and realize that prejudices are like
cages that prevent us from fully spreading our wings and embracing life as it is. If
society normalizes one type of prejudice but demonizes another, another false
binary of what is normal and what is not emerges. However, pathologizing and
medicalising criminal behaviour may be a double edge sword and needs to be posi-
tioned within its sociocultural and political context (Metzl et al., 2021). In a society
that prevents its members from experiencing their spirituality (unless institutional-
ized), a lot of pain, disbalance, and dissonance will inevitably transpire. Materialistic
societies do not value who people are but what they make (What is your net worth? –
what kind of commodifying question this is?) and how much they exploit or con-
sume instead of how they contribute. This unnatural way of organizing society
contributes to the appearance of a lot of illnesses and coping mechanisms which
then further ostracise and stigmatise individuals. Community is a basic unit for
human growth, and a thriving decolonized society may be a global one with a strong
local sense of belonging and engagement.
Indigenous communities have suffered a lot from the consequence of diagnosing
and pathologizing people who have developed a range of adaptive behaviours to
cope with the oppression inflicted on them individually and systemically. Although
Indigenous communities worldwide have restored and repaired their wounds to the
best of their ability, many have not survived or are still suffering. Colonization has
not ended when colonizers left or started proclaiming equality and non-
discrimination. Consequences are lingering, and Indigenous nations are forced to
find survival strategies. Remembering, communicating with ancestors, passing on
the legacy, holding on to values and beliefs, and keeping babies and children safe
alongside many other survival methods enabled Indigenous communities to keep
the fires burning. This is not because of the political systems and government’s
efforts to restore the damage, but due to their resilience, connection to Earth’s
rhythms and cycles, and Indigenous wisdom that was passed usually through wise
grandmothers, orally or through art, dance, rituals, and stories.
Shifting Paradigms: Decolonising Minds
As historically, Indigenous nations, women, sexual minorities, and people with vis-
ible and invisible disabilities from all over the world were forced to find ways to
cope with the damage of colonialism and rampant discrimination; oppressors have
rarely had a chance to address causes and effects that bigotry and trauma inflicted,
personally, systemically, politically, and spiritually. This acknowledgment needs to
happen as a prerequisite for the shift in consciousness and clearing of historical guilt
and the burden it imposes on the oppressor’s conscience. The shift in consciousness
from cultural arrogance to cultural humility and respectfulness is already happening
in some parts of the world allowing indigenous wisdom to fill the gap experienced
by a soulless mechanistic worldview promoted since the industrial and digital revo-
lutions, especially in colonized countries.
William Glasser (1999) claimed that humanity has made huge technical progress
(since the industrial followed by a digital revolution) because we were willing to
change a paradigm. He asserts that we have not made human progress because we
are not willing to change a paradigm. He claims that most human problems stem
from our unwillingness to give up an old dualistic Western paradigm called
Stimulus-Response (S-R) psychology, and now we are even using digital technol-
ogy to keep us stuck in that long-outdated way of being. It is all closely related to
beliefs and, when those beliefs are colonial, created to exercise supremacy and sup-
port the imposed hierarchies of power they will permeate every pore of society and
all human actions.
Whenever I teach about motivation, inspired by Glasser, I ask a simple question:
Why do you stop at a red light? Or why do you pick up a phone? Before cell phones,
most participants would respond: ‘Because it rings’, but there was always a small
minority that would say: ‘Because I am curious’, ‘I want to know who is ringing
me’, ‘I am longing for connection’, or ‘I am concerned that it may be an emergency’.
Believing that the reason for picking up the phone is its ringing allows a simple
device to control us. It is about external control, a colonial mentality deeply etched
in the psyche of a colonizer, colonized, and even a new immigrant will embrace it
in their wish to fit in. The rest of the answers above are springing from the belief that
we are internally motivated, which gives more agency to people, but also
responsibility.
Glasser (1999) states that stimulus-response psychology is based on the false
idea that most humans are externally motivated and guided by three of the following
false beliefs:
1. Mechanical stimuli can make me answer a phone because it rings, or stop at red
night because it turns red. While this is false, it does not cause major problems.
2. However, if we believe that mechanical stimuli can make us change behaviour,
we may start believing that when in a position of power, we can make others do
what we want them to do whether they want to do it or not. At this level, this
overpowering belief system can cause a lot of interpersonal problems that usu-
ally happen in families, schools, and workplaces. Some parents even claim that
24 K. Napan
they own their children and can do to them whatever they like under the guise of
them doing it for their children’s own good. This way of thinking is so embedded
in colonial societies that we even expect bosses, teachers, and parents to control
others usually without their consent. Even though this thinking causes a lot of
conflict in families, schools, and workplaces, if done with good intentions and
moderately, people find ways to liberate themselves from their oppressive
parents, teachers, and bosses and become more resilient and careful with their
choices.
3. When this kind of thinking reaches its third level, it becomes extremely harmful.
People in positions of power start believing that it is their right, and even their
moral duty, to try to force others to do what they do not want to do by using
threats, punishment, or rewards (Glasser, 1999). This belief leads to violence,
abuse, war, discrimination, oppression, and justification of colonization. It also
develops a colonial mentality (Kuti, 1977) which then keeps perpetuating colo-
nialism even when colonizers are gone.
The core of the colonial mentality is based on the idea of power-over instead of
power-with, restrictions of freedom-to (to live the life we desire), and imposition of
lack of freedom-from violence, discrimination, oppression, and bullying. According
to Glasser (1999), it gets internalized, and it manifests in the following beliefs fol-
lowed by matching oppressive behaviours:
1. I want you to do something you don’t want to do.
2. You want me to do something I don't want to do.
3. We both want each other to do something neither of us wants to do.
4. I am trying to force myself to do something I don't want to do and I'm doing this
partly to please someone else.
And in society, these beliefs are essential components of the same outdated and not-
life-giving paradigm which gives rise to all kinds of discrimination and bigotry
including the relentless abuse of the planet Earth.
Many other thinkers and revolutionaries critiqued the epistemological and philo-
sophical position that allowed colonialism to fester around the world bringing along
an ecological disaster and depletion of the planet (Mandela, 2011; Bateson &
Bateson, 2000; Freire, 2005; Fanon, 2021; Rodriguez, 2022; Maté, 2022). Numerous
books have been written on the topic to mention only a few (Hawken, 2008; Shiva
& Shiva, 2018; Kimmerer, 2020; Wahinkpe Topa & Narvaez, 2022), and move-
ments that integrate social justice, sustainability, spirituality, and raising conscious-
ness through education have built on indigenous wisdom, integration of science and
spirituality, and reverence for all life (Pachamama Alliance, SEEDS for Change,
Seeds of Change, Schumacher institute, IONS, Charter for Compassion and many
others). The sustainability movement is the largest movement that ever existed on
the planet, and it spreads around the globe through various manifestations, focus,
and loyalties. It is the first planetary movement without a leader, which also makes
it unique and reflects the emerging paradigm shift. A sustainability revolution with-
out addressing the devastation caused by colonization and acknowledging
Indigenous wisdom and spiritualities cannot create a real transformation; however,

a sustainability movement that liberates women, as well as belief systems deeply
ingrained in the indigeneity of all humans, that addresses all discriminations and
appreciates all life on the planet has a potential for a complete transformation of
how we perceive and live life.
How Can We Transform It All Together?
Massive indoctrination brought by colonisation (and consequent exploitative capi-

talism and neoliberalism) of fear-based endless accumulating, conflict-creating,
extracting, using, and discarding eventually creates pain and alienation for all. The
disconnect colonising attitudes and beliefs created caused lasting consequences.
In Aotearoa, a country that I had the privilege to choose to be my home, I had to
make a choice: do I side with colonisers or what can I do to contribute to the restora-
tion of the damage that has been done and create social change in my sphere of
influence?
Being a white immigrant, it would be easy to side with the oppressor. If I changed
my name to Sheila, my last name to White, polished my accent, started wearing
corporate clothes, started to talk less, and smile more, I would probably easily assim-
ilate and never mention who my ancestors were and what they stood for. Too hard!
Through learning about the colonization of my new country and Māori culture, my
indigenous and authentic being got awoken and refused to be silent or ‘sit pretty’.
It seems that although we are all our planet’s indigenous children, some of us
have forgotten and got seduced by material goods, the illusion of superficial power-
over at the expense of growing internal power (that Māori call mana). I am deeply
grateful for grandmothers who maintained and passed on the indigenous wisdom
that almost got forgotten by being ridiculed, made illegal, ignored, and abandoned
over centuries of white supremacy and its expansion around the globe.
If we have forgotten, how can we remember?
Remembering in this context relates to becoming members of the planetary alliance

with all beings on the Earth, including the planet herself. How can we return to our
roots with a new understanding that will enable us to renew our membership with
Earth? Do we need a new psychology for that, a psychology of personal and societal
freedom?
By being immersed in a culture different from mine, I learn about my own. By
inviting a person for a meal, we share our presence and learn about, and with each
other, our shadows dance in the background, our communities of cells residing in our
bodies are having a party while we are having an intellectual conversation, and our
emotions flow and give taste and colour to our encounter. Remembering happens in
walks, campfire talks, random encounters, and intentional meetings. This re-mem-
bering inevitably happens as by becoming aware of who we really are, we are remem-
bering our true nature and those encounters have a potential of bringing us home.
26 K. Napan
I ndividualism and Pain of Patriarchy: Going Beyond

False Dichotomies
A Western paradigm of humans standing above and apart from nature and attempt-
ing to control it, reflects in the way in which still most humans treat their children,
their bodies, illnesses, partners, employees, animals, plants, weather, and students.
Patriarchal top-down attitude reflects in hierarchies even in most humanistic endeav-
ours like psychology, schooling systems, medicine, spirituality, business, universi-
ties, and management. The ‘use and discard’ attitude permeates most of these
endeavours to the point that something as obviously destructive as war can
become normal.
There is no such thing as “away.” So, when we throw anything away, it must go somewhere.
(Leonard, 2010)
The same is with the energy of violence; when we express it, it does not go away; it
multiplies and is passed on. When not expressed, it gets internalised in our bodies
and manifests as one of many illnesses that plague our society. If we shift from the
illusion of the binary of expressing or suppressing, we may start impressing our-
selves with a range of options for managing emotions (that are nothing else but
signals our ‘mind/body/spirit’ is giving us to engage in meaningful action).
We live on a spinning round planet that is part of a moving and living universe
where a straight line always has a curvature. Why do we pretend that life happens in
a straight line? Why do our models not reflect models in nature? We intuitively
appreciate the golden ratio, we get fascinated by fractals and holograms, and we get
bored in monotony, yet our architecture, organization of business, education, and
medicine follow either a straight line or a hierarchical pyramidal structure.
Another false binary springing from hierarchical thinking is that one cannot be
connected and powerful at the same time. The focus here is on the power-over, but
not the true internal power, as internal power cannot exist without being connected.
We as humanity need to develop the ability to stand up for ourselves while cherish-
ing another. This is the basis of all healthy relationships, relationship to other
humans, other beings, nature, Earth, and the Universe.
The notion of transcending binaries was promoted by the strengths perspective in
social work (Saleeby, 2012) pointing out that humans can be resilient and vulnera-
ble at the same time. The strengths perspective critiqued the pathologizing approach
to health likening the body to a machine and attempting to cure each body organ
separately, usually by using surgeries and potent drugs to kill or remove the culprit.
The strengths perspective attempted to shift perception by engaging people in dia-
logues that would encourage them to shift their perspective. It became particularly
useful for people who have been marginalised, discriminated against and often, due
to societal oppression, and unaware of their unique strengths and abilities. Another
social worker, Brené Brown followed by conducting extensive research on the
power of vulnerability (Brown, 2010) followed by her second Ted talk Listening to
Shame (Brown, 2012) and later on emphasizing the difference between empathy
and sympathy (Brown, 2013) perceiving empathy as a deeply relational communi-

cation that transcends hierarchies and allows to simply hold space for another
human being as very different to mere sympathy that is condescending, not engag-
ing and patronising. Brené Brown is deeply personal and disclosing in her presenta-
tions; she makes personal professional and touches on the spiritual while she relates
to the audience with warmth and authenticity. However, it seems that political and
cultural aspects of being human are not at the forefront of her research. She cannot
get out of her professorial white skin when she invites people to be vulnerable. It
seems that the privilege of feeling safe enough is a prerequisite for being able to
expose vulnerabilities. If discrimination, abuse, and criticism are part of everyday
reality, allowing yourself to be vulnerable is not a smart move. This is where bell
hooks’ teaching brings reality to the ‘self-help lazy-boy’ psychology for the privi-
leged! Irrespective of if she writes about saving men from toxic masculinity and the
shackles of patriarchy (hooks, The Will to Change: Men, Masculinity, and Love,
2005), the sacred, healing, transformative and redemptive love (hooks, 2001), race,
gender, class sexuality, and the meaning of home (hooks, 2009) or transformation of
teaching practices (hooks, 1994), bell hooks addresses issues of white supremacy,
religious indoctrination, and discrimination in the colonized world with grace,
fierceness, humour, and integrity. Exposing vulnerabilities where there is no trust,
being honest and reflexive within a group of unequal power and differing agendas,
or in situations where historical pain has not been addressed, would at least be reck-
less and at most unintelligent. This exposure works both ways and it requires trust,
a sense of equity, and a willingness to be reciprocal. Within the ‘use and discard’
paradigm and understanding that humans are here to exploit and extract and that
endless profit and exploitation are leading to prosperity, it is not likely that we will
anytime soon live in a socially just, spiritually respectful, and sustainable society.
Indigenous scholars, teachers, and researchers (Pere, 1997; Durie, 1999;
Tuhiwai-Smith, 1999; Pohatu, 1913) brought to the surface narrowness and limita-
tions of dichotomous simplistic thinking as well as the importance of the awareness
of political and cultural aspects of human life and how they impact personal, profes-
sional, and spiritual and the other way around. We have come to the point where it
is about the survival of all humans and our non-human relatives (Wahinkpe Topa,
2019) or more specifically:
In the light of our global crises, we must move more forcefully toward truth, reconciliation
and Indigenous sovereignty, while at the same time decolonising and bringing Indigenous
worldview and local Indigenous knowledge into and across the curriculum for the benefit
of all students. (Wahinkpe Topa, 2019, p. 1)
Yes, under the condition that non-indigenous students are willing to step out of the
dungeon of their indoctrinated minds and listen with their open hearts to learn and
not extract, misuse, and manipulate. Wahinkpe Topa, also known as Four Arrows
and Don Trent Jacobs (2020), provided an image that encourages dialogue that
reaches beyond rigid binaries and above romanticising Indigenous wisdom. It offers
a pathway where currently dominant and Indigenous worldviews can be discussed
and enrich one another by not being seen as binaries but as a continuum where both
28 K. Napan
ends have something to offer and each individual, community, or society can place
themselves in harmony with their own indigeneity, stage in life, and aspirations.
Whaninkpe Topa and Darcia Narvaez describe it in more detail in their book
Restoring the Kinship Worldview (Wahinkpe Topa & Narvaez, 2022). This kinship
worldview (Wahinkpe Topa, 2020) goes beyond a simplistic binary perceiving it as
a worldview that does not belong to a race or a group of people but all cultures or
groups of people that managed to retain the original nature-based worldview which
cherishes the Earth and all inhabitants and lives in harmony with its cycles. Wahinkpe
Topa suggests that everybody is Indigenous to Earth and therefore has the right and
the responsibility to support, practice, and teach the Indigenous Worldview pre-
cepts, Indigenous sovereignty, dignity, and ethical use of traditional lands (2020).
This can only be done while being mindful of cultural appropriation, misrepresenta-
tion, oversimplification, and simply getting it wrong. In my Universe, this is closely
linked to knowing who I am, where I belong, and how can I contribute to making
this world a better place.
The co-creation of a paradigm of sustainable, reciprocal, and respectful life has
to be guided by ageless Indigenous wisdom while the common dominant worldview
embedded in the positivist, neoliberal, patriarchal paradigm is losing its credibility
and proving to be unsustainable and destructive for the majority of humans and
most other species. Paradoxically, the richest parts of the world are rejecting the
dominant worldview and seemingly coming to a maturity of becoming more curious
about the Indigenous wisdom and more life-giving and sustainable paradigms.
This paradigm is based on a spiral way of thinking as opposed to pyramids, steps,
or linearity. It is focused on non-hierarchical thinking and courageous trust in the
Universe. It strives for a socially purposeful life and the well-being of a whole com-
munity while respecting various understandings of gender roles and fluidity. It is
holistic in its nature and emanates love for all living systems on Earth perceiving all
beings as sentient. It is possible to create a socially just, spiritually respectful, and
ecologically sustainable world. We have plenty of literature that supports it and
examples where it works on a small scale. Well-functioning families, communities,
schools, and businesses show how better world is not only desirable but possible.
The Meihana Model, developed by Suzanne Pitama and colleagues (Pitama,
et al., 2007), was an attempt to build on Mason Durie’s (1985) Te Whare Tapa Wha
model and create a practical assessment tool primarily for Māori clients with mental
health problems taking into account external factors including colonisation and
institutional racism that contribute to the manifestation of mental illness. Although
the model was originally developed for Māori, it is suitable and can be used for all.
As psychiatry and departments of corrections have done the most damage to indig-
enous peoples around the world, I always wondered how come that the dominant
psychiatric and therapy models (like psychoanalysis, behavioural or conversion
therapies) have done so much damage to indigenous peoples, yet indigenous models
are applicable and lifegiving for all? This must be related to a flawed and outdated
worldview described as dominant in Wahinkpe Topa’s work. A graphic representa-
tion of the Meihana model is shown in Fig. 1, and although envisaged just as an
assessment model, its implications are much wider.
Fig. 1 Meihana model. (Pitama et al., 2007)
It seems that Indigenous models, epistemologies and theories bring forth a more
appreciative, loving and peaceful world. As mentioned before, it is not about simple
binaries, it is more about many years of alienation of humans from the Earth, other
beings who share the planet with us and each other.
According to his daughter Nora Bateson (2020), Gregory Bateson stated:
The major problems in the world are the result of the difference between how nature works
and how people think.
Colonisation has not only colonised people’s minds, but it also colonised people’s
imagination, and this counts for colonisers, colonised, and generations that fol-
lowed including immigrants and refugees who all have their individual stories of
displacement, distraction, but also transformation and hope. Indigenous wisdom
points us in the direction of remembering how nature not only thinks but feels, acts,
and regenerates. When rain falls on dry land, Earth shows her delight by blossom-
ing, she shows her fruits by painting them in bright colours, and she offers shelter in
her crevasses and even envelops herself in the atmosphere conducive to life. Cycles
and seasons enable an abundance of life to thrive which reminds us that transforma-
tion is not only possible but inevitable.
Nora Bateson (2015) came up with the term symmathesy:
30 K. Napan
An entity composed by contextual mutual learning through interaction. This process of

interaction and mutual learning takes place in living entities at larger or smaller scales of
symmathesy. (Bateson, 2015)
For centuries, long before the Batesons, Māori coined the term ako, which is still
used in educational circles, emphasizing the mutuality of the teaching-learning pro-
cess where every teaching is learning. In my native language (Croatian), we use the
same word for teaching and learning, and the context determines its meaning in the
sentence. The principle of reciprocity is so deeply ingrained in all Indigenous cul-
tures, which means that despite colonization, wise grandmothers managed to pass
on the wisdom that usually contradicted the dominant worldview and in many
instances was dangerous and illegal to share, but they enabled worlds of their grand-
children to expand and not to be fully subsumed and consumed by colonizing para-
digms. This wisdom of interrelatedness and deep connection between all life is
essential for our survival, and without it, global peace has no chance on Earth. Nora
Bateson has not stolen the term nor culturally misappropriated it; it seems that her
consciousness, at a point of her remembering, reached the level where the notion of
reciprocity became essential for survival. Maybe this is the paradigm shift that is
currently happening on the planet and Indigenous wisdom can help in that process,
but only if we restore the damage centuries of colonization have inflicted on all of
us. And the damage is devastating. Restoration does not come through revenge. It
comes from acknowledgment by those whose ancestors have caused harm and who
are still benefiting from it, by honest acceptance and awareness followed by restora-
tion and transformation. As much as it is a deeply personal process, it can happen
only in groups where the process of mutual learning, heart connection, and ener-
getic transformation can happen. Many indigenous cultures have rituals and pro-
cesses appropriate for situations like this.
Ownership and Unhelpful Binaries
The concept of ownership is another one that seems deeply unethical especially in
relation to land, animals, and humans. I was always aware of the illusion of owner-
ship and knew that I do not possess children and animals not even plants in my
garden. Although I got deeply indebted to have ‘my’ garden, I know that I do not
own it. I am not even a custodian, which is such a noble title we humans adopted
through centuries of religious indoctrination. Earth is more of a custodian of us, she
harbours our life; we can call ourselves custodians only if we develop a reciprocal
relationship where we are ‘in custody’ of each other which again sounds like a rela-
tionship of mutual overpowering, restriction of freedom, and not a relationship of a
loving support we seek. The term custodian comes from a patriarchal, patronising
worldview that thrives on human supremacy over all life. This worldview got us into
an unsustainable situation where custodians became extractors and exploiters. I
often wonder if I even own my thoughts, or if they come from the library of all ideas
that I then ‘tune into’, ‘download’, and manifest according to my biology, strengths,
skills, and abilities and then potentially get clouded by media, advertising, and other
modes of altering our perceptions and authentic ideas. We do not own anything, and
the illusion that we do impacts the way we relate to each other, our communities,
societies, all that is, and the Earth herself. Centuries of extraction, cultural appro-
priation, misinterpretation, and misrepresentation of Indigenous wisdom, as well as
the spread of commodification, shaped the illusion of ownership as a major motiva-
tor of human endeavours at the expense of reciprocity which is essential for co-
creative life on and with Earth.
Racism, homophobia, misogyny, disablism, speciesism, destruction of the planet,
colonisation, oppression, discrimination, relationship unhappiness, abuse, bullying,
wars, gossip, snobbism, academic arrogance, and exclusion are all manifestations of
the same problem. As long as the majority believes that they are still benefiting from
this outdated use and discard – the survival of the fittest paradigm, it will keep per-
petuating itself. Despite the illusion that it works in the short run, nobody is benefit-
ing in the long run.
Another false dichotomy that needs to be dismantled is the oppressor–victim
dynamic.
In the long run, the oppressor is also a victim. In the short run (and so far, human history
has consisted only of short runs), the victims, themselves desperate and tainted with the
culture that oppresses them, turn on other victims. (Zinn, 2016, p. 27)
That does not mean that oppressors should not be called to repair the damage they
have inflicted. That would be healing for themselves, too. We also need to have laws
that prevent further damage; however, these laws have been effective only to some
extent, whereas raising of awareness, transformative education, or learning to trans-
gress (as bell hooks calls it), communicating, and consensus reaching can enable
people to rediscover the joy of collaborative communities that operate on trust, reci-
procity, and mutual respect.
Life flows through us and we are either good hosts or not.
As Lesley Rameka (2015) noted:

From a Māori perspective, people are not superior but related through whakapapa to all
aspects of the environment, themselves imbued with spiritual elements. (Rameka, 2015)
Our intrinsic motivation can be a manifestation of the divine spark within us, regur-
gitation of brainwashing inflicted on us through media, and unjust rhetoric or any-
thing between these two polarities. If we learn how to get in touch with our
Indigenous, to critically reflect and act reasonably upon those reflections, and to
simply live in accordance with our values and in coherence with the way nature
works, we will have more chances to experience the reverence for all life and find
ways to resolve conflicts without violence but through mindful listening and work-
ing towards reaching consensus.
32 K. Napan
Ethic of Restoration
Moana Jackson was one of Aotearoa’s leading thinkers. His legacy lives on and his
term ethic of restoration to transform the damage of colonisation into cocreating a
better world lives on. Moana Jackson (Jackson, 2021) claims that
Colonisation is a process of dispossession and control rather than a historical artefact, and
now it takes on new forms. These forms may be less obviously violent, but they still deny
Indigenous peoples the right to be fully free in their own lands. (p. 1)
Jackson (2021) goes deeper by offering a Māori intellectual and jural tradition or
tikanga described as the first law of Aotearoa. It is a system of values that helps to
sustain and restore relationships. It is deeply relational; it seeks balance as opposed
to rigid rules and emphasises love for Papatūānuku (Mother Earth) comparing the
relationship with her to not living under the law but with it. This paradigm shift
based on Indigenous wisdom explores the power of the stories, circles, and spirals
and endless interdependence of all life that does not negate physical life in all its
manifestations, yet appreciates invisible, unseen, unknown and ineffable. It also
transcends the binary of independent and interdependent by making it not only pos-
sible all at once but necessary for healthy life and relationships. In Māori, precolo-
nial societies laws and political powers were closely connected to spirituality and
life itself. Jackson (2021) mentions the following questions:
What is the relationship between people and the power of the land and the universe?
Where do the interests of the individual fit within the well-being of the collective?
How can the land and its relationships be protected in encounters with those who might
have a different whakapapa and a different sense of mana and tapu? (p. 1)
If we would follow a similar epistemology around the globe, the answers would not
arrive through legislation or decisions made by a powerful minority detached from
those on whom the law is imposed; they would arrive through stories, proverbs,
poems, carvings, art, restoration, consensus reaching, and respectful relationships.
They would be co-created and contextualised while having everybody’s well-being
in mind. From this arrangement, everybody would grow and gain benefits far more
valuable than the neoliberal endless accumulation of fictional wealth. It may be
challenging to envision such a shift because over the last 400 years the colonisers
arrived without respect, with a raw and primitive need to conquer fuelled with the
illusion of white supremacy. Little they knew that this belief would damage them as
much as it damaged the people they believed they conquered. As life is more than a
list of facts and laws, their children and grandchildren, deprived of their own origin
stories, started searching and exploring various stories and songlines, and somehow,
they resonated with them. The wisdom passed on by grandmothers while rocking
their grandchildren to sleep spread through time and space and people from lands
far away were able to hear them. Movements across the planet were created, pod-
casts were recorded, books were written, songs were sung, and it is my deepest hope
that humanity will not need a major planetary disaster before we fully experience
the paradigm shift towards the ethic of restoration. It is almost as if humans are
coming of age as a collective and a rampant white younger brother, drunk on the
superficial notion of power, is becoming aware of the damage he has done in his
mindless delirium. His ego will not help him restore the damage done, but his soul,
heart, and dreams might.
Jackson (2021) offers five basic values that are at the same time a prerequisite for
the ethic of restoration and its main ingredients:
• The value of place – the need to promote good relationships with and ensure the
protection of Papatūānuku.
• The value of tikanga – the core ideals that describe the ‘ought to be’ of living in
Aotearoa and the particular place of Māori within that tikanga.
• The value of community – the need to facilitate good relationships between all
peoples.
• The value of belonging – the need for everyone to have a sense of belonging.
• The value of balance – the need to maintain harmony in all relationships, including
in the exercise of constitutional authority.
• The value of conciliation – the need to guarantee a conciliatory and consensual
democracy.
Together, the values reflect what Max Harris and Philip McKibbin call the “politics of
love”, in which love is seen as both critical and constructive.
The politics of love is a values-based politics, which affirms the importance of people
and extends beyond us to non-human animals and the environment … it holds that all peo-
ple are important – and as such it incorporates a commitment to radical equality.
Constitutional transformation is only one way in which the ethic of restoration may be
achieved. (Jackson, 2021, p. 1)
The ethics of restoration is a process, not an event. It is a consensual, reciprocal

process that has the potential of enabling humanity to communicate across the dif-
ference and replace unsustainable, violent, and oppressive practices that dominate
the world. It integrates the appreciation of personal, professional, political, spiritual,
and cultural, transcends the notion of ownership and domination, and allows art,
ritual, dance, and music to be a legitimate way of researching, expressing, offering
hoping, and healing. It does not negate science, but it integrates it as one way of
knowing among many other ways. It encourages us to take a breath, pause, redis-
cover who we are and why we are here, and realise what Indigenous people around
the world have always known – we do not own anything, not even our thoughts. Our
ancestors circulate through our DNA and remind us that life is here to be lived, not
colonised!
May we be light as a seed yet grounded like a tree, may we all realise the irrele-
vance of our conflicts and treat all life with reverence as if our life depends on it (as
it does).
Thank you for reading and if this chapter initiated new thoughts or provoked
your thinking, please contact me at k.napan@massey.ac.nz or ksenijanapan@gmail.
com so we can learn through dialogue.
34 K. Napan
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36 K. Napan
Ksenija Napan is a hopeless optimist attempting to dismantle seemingly opposing polarities

stemming from constructed illusions imposed by a powerful minority on the majority of life-loving
benevolent human and non-human beings residing on Earth. Ksenija cherishes the endless patience
and generosity of mother Earth and is inspired by the creative nature and Indigenous wisdom of
her own ancestors and ancestors of Aotearoa that ‘adopted’ her when her home country ceased to
exist. She is passionate about co-creating a spiritually respectful, sustainable, and socially just
world in order to transcend binaries, restore planetary well-being, and dismantle hierarchies that
prioritise white anthropocentric attitudes. Her background is in social work, social psychiatry, and
education. Her teaching/learning processes are inquiry-based where learning is peer and self-
assessed and inspired by the integration of science, Indigenous wisdom, and various forms of art.
Iqbalian Liberation Theology: Spiritual
Self-Affirmation, Meritocratic Democracy,
and Non-hegemonic International Orders
Sohaib Ali
Abbreviations
AIMC All-India Muslim Conference

AIML All-India Muslim League
INC Indian National Congress
RRTI The Reconstruction of Religious Thought in Islam
Dwellers of Western lands, God’s world is not a shop!

What you deem to be of value, will have meagre worth.
Your civilization will slay itself with its own dagger –
A nest made on a feeble bough does not last...
God’s lovers are in multitudes, roaming in the wilderness –
I’ll devote myself to the one, who loves God’s people...
I’ll set out with my weary caravan in the gloom of the night;
My cry will be luminously ablaze, my breath radiantly afire!1
Introduction
The core parts of this chapter explore two major themes. Its first analytical section
draws on the Iqbalian perspective to sketch a spiritually grounded human self and
highlights epistemological, ontological, and causal theses advanced by it for mak-
ing certain claims about human nature and agency. In the next section, focus shifts
from individual to a societal level, and Iqbalian principles for establishing egalitar-
ian multi-faith polities are analysed that can provide a basis for developing
1
Translated from Iqbal’s poem ‘March 1907’, published in his first Urdu poetry book Bāng-i-Dara
(Iqbal, 1976).
S. Ali (*)
University of Management and Technology, Lahore, Pakistan
e-mail: sohaib.ali@umt.edu.pk

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-41965-2_3
38 S. Ali
coexisting supra-state normative orders in regional and global contexts. The con-
cluding discussion, besides offering a summation of the foregoing analysis, sug-
gests strategies for further utilization of Iqbalian liberation theology.
Muhammad Iqbal (b. 1877; Sialkot), a Punjab-based Muslim of Kashmiri origin,
gained a legendary reputation as a poet-philosopher within his lifetime. Generally
regarded as the preeminent Muslim intellectual in late colonial India, prior to the
mid-1920s he maintained a rather distant association with political causes advo-
cated by Muslims in and outside India. Then at a critical juncture for all communi-
ties in India, as the British were about to begin consultations for far-reaching
constitutional reforms, in July 1926 Iqbal decided to enter practical politics by con-
testing for membership of the Punjab Legislative Council. After completing one
term as a Council member in 1930, owing to several timely interventions he
remained a mainstay of the political scene till his demise in April 1938 (Malik,
2009). Iqbal’s religious orientation as a Muslim can be characterized as reformist
neo-traditionalism. In theology, ‘after exhaustive research’ he had professed alle-
giance to the creed of ‘pious predecessors’ (the three early generations of Muslims) –
while accepting that he had taken the liberty to make sense of ‘some secondary
points’ differently (Iqbal, 2000: 793). With regard to law and spirituality, he took
more liberty and was inclined to revisit certain ostensibly settled issues from the
perspective of comparative jurisprudence and a mysticism that was experiential and
applied rather than speculative and philosophized.
Iqbal had already arrived at some of the most enduring elements of his theopoliti-
cal vision by the time he concluded his studies at the University of Cambridge with
the submission of his thesis in March 1907.2 His poem titled (and written in) ‘March
1907’ had simultaneously problematized – the relentless commodification and prof-
iteering unleashed by modern economic forces and European colonialism; and the
unhealthy detachment of Muslim divines from public life. Iqbal’s 1908 article on
‘Political Thought in Islam’ published in the Sociological Review marked the begin-
ning of his erudite writings on political issues. Alongside his literary and scholarly
contributions aiming to raise awareness and self-belief among Muslims, Iqbal’s life-
long concern was to reform Muslim education in order to imbue his faith commu-
nity with the ideals and competence that would help them lead a dignified, peaceful,
and prosperous life. In India, chiefly the Aligarh Muslim University and institutions
under the Anjuman-i-Himāyat-i-Islam had benefited from his guidance. In October
1933, he was hosted by the King of Afghanistan for deliberating over the develop-
ment of a newly founded university in Kabul (Green, 2011). After his well received
1932 lecture for the Aristotelian Society at London – in December 1933, Iqbal
accepted an invitation from the University of Oxford to deliver the Rhodes Lectures
(Hussain, 2013). But due to the partial loss of voice he suffered next month, he
2
Later in the same year, that graduation thesis on the development of metaphysics in Persia was
‘resubmitted, after some revision, to the Ludwig Maximilian University, Munich, for a doctorate’
(Shafique, 2014: 43). It subsequently appeared as his second book (Iqbal, 1908b); his first book –
Ilm-ul-Iqtisād (Iqbal, 2002) – which was one of the earliest works in Urdu on modern economics,
was published in 1904.
Iqbalian Liberation Theology: Spiritual Self-Affirmation, Meritocratic Democracy… 39
would neither deliver the proposed lectures on ‘Islam and the Modern World’, nor
be able again to address political gatherings or continue his legal practice.
Nonetheless, his thoughtful interventions on a wide range of issues continued till
the very end (Shafique, 2014: 148).
Biases held by hyper nationalists of varying affiliations and vocations have
marred public discourse in South Asia on Iqbal’s moderate viewpoint. Many tend to
approach his works and struggle with the assumption that faith-based solidarity
necessitates prejudice and exclusion. Their skewed understanding of Iqbal’s ideas
and activism is anachronistic, lacks context, and takes a partial view of events and
arguments.3 For over a decade after he joined practical politics, Iqbal strove indi-
vidually and also through the All-India Muslim League (AIML) and the All-India
Muslim Conference (AIMC) – to facilitate an inter-communal agreement for a
united India where it would be possible to live together separately. Before his June
1937 letter to Muhammad Ali Jinnah (1876–1948; AIML President) in which Iqbal
finally called for establishing a separate federation of Muslim provinces,4 for sev-
eral years he had advanced demands for – a Muslim India within India in the form
of a peaceful confederation, or at least provincial autonomy with certain constitu-
tional safeguards for Muslims. His struggle for inter-faith trust building and secur-
ing peace and liberties for all Indians and the wider humanity has thereby come to
be submerged under his posthumous status as the ideological founding father of
Pakistan.
In 1944, owning ‘the ideals preached by’ Iqbal – the ‘national poet’, Jinnah
‘whole heartedly’ wished that Pakistanis would ‘be able to achieve and give a prac-
tical shape to these ideals in our sovereign state of Pakistan, when established’
(Jinnah, 1964: 147). However, textbooks for ‘Pakistan Studies’ taught in Pakistan
up to the undergraduate level have done little to make Iqbal’s thought and struggle
relevant. Some notable studies of his political ideals and activism have been pro-
duced (Malik, 2009; Naim, 1979; Sevea, 2012), though his powerful liberation the-
ology remains largely un-tapped. Important forays into liberationist readings of
Islamic texts (Esack, 1997; Rahemtulla, 2017) and the emancipatory praxis of
Muslim reformist politics (Dabashi, 2009) have brought to light a variety of plural-
ist visions, but they only refer to Iqbal’s contributions obliquely. Similarly, as yet
3
Simplistic portrayals of leading figures like Iqbal, with hard communal undertones meant to
appeal to nationalist sentiments, are also rife in textbooks. He is bound to his final positions on
certain intractable political problems without tracing their organic evolution, and his broader
approach to a wider set of concerns is ignored. Likewise, writers such as Mubarak Ali in Pakistan
and Rafiq Zakaria in India have provided inaccurate appraisals of the nature and significance of
Iqbal’s contribution to Muslim solidarity politics.
4
When Jinnah published Iqbal’s letters in 1942, he stated in a laudatory foreword: ‘I think these
letters are of very great historical importance, particularly those which explain his views in clear
and unambiguous terms on the political future of Muslim India. His views were substantially in
consonance with my own and had finally led me to the same conclusions as a result of careful
examination and study of the constitutional problems facing India, and found expression in due
course in the united will of Muslim India as adumbrated in the Lahore resolution of the All-India
Muslim League’ (Iqbal, 1942: 6–7).
40 S. Ali
work done on liberation and peace psychology from a non-Western perspective

(Montero & Sonn, 2009; Montiel & Leung, 2003; Montiel & Noor, 2009) has not
explored how the Iqbalian approach to self-affirmation and collective conduct can
contribute to the pursuit of peace and liberty across faiths and civilizations.
Data Sources and Analysis
Although not as numerous as his poetic works, Iqbal’s writings in prose are as
remarkable for their insightfulness. Texts discussed here are mainly taken from his
magnum opus in prose – ‘The Reconstruction of Religious Thought in Islam’
(RRTI) – and from some of his relevant articles, speeches, and letters. My exposi-
tion of these texts from him is nonetheless interspersed with pertinent quotations
from his poetry that are utilized here to succinctly capture certain aspects of argu-
ments made by him in prose. Selections from the RRTI and Iqbal’s articles, speeches,
and letters have been made purposively to address the analytical goals of this study,
and in a manner that is consistent with the general schema of his argumentation.
Hence, the analytical focus is on texts that present Iqbal’s holistic and harmonious
approach to life, based on the development of an individual’s personality through
God-consciousness which results in an ethical worldview and a reform-oriented
activism. Beginning from 1908, the selected writings span the last 30 years of
Iqbal’s life – these texts cover his enduring arguments and reveal a broad consis-
tency in his outlook.5
Aspects of Iqbal’s thought relevant to this study are viewed through two analyti-
cal grids. Drawing on Walter Mignolo, this study employs the lenses of border
thinking, to determine Iqbal’s positionality in the context of colonial India; decolo-
niality, for understanding Iqbal’s attempts to delink from the colonial matrix of
power; and dewesternization, for assessing his strategy to delink from a hierarchical
inter-state system (Woons & Weier, 2017). This analytical perspective is compli-
mented by the Foucauldian lens of governmentality that understands government as
‘an activity meant to shape, guide, or affect the conduct of people... [and] the “con-
duct of oneself” where a sense of self-governance is a guiding force’ and takes
rationality ‘as a form of thinking that strives to be systematic and clear about how
things are or ought to be’ (Huff, 2007: 389). Foucault’s later scholarship on gover-
nance of the self concedes the possibility of ‘transformation based on a critique of
the past and present’, by acknowledging the existence and potency of conscious
reflexivity and proactiveness on the part of actors (Ettlinger, 2011: 537). An
5
Iqbal’s notes produced by R. A. Nicholson in his introduction to ‘The Secrets of the Self’ (English
translation of Iqbal’s Asrār-i-Khudi) can be consulted as a general outline of his philosophy (Iqbal,
1920). To capture the origins, nuance and evolution of Iqbal’s thought, his detailed and revealing
January 1921 letter to Nicholson, and important correspondence with Jinnah in the 1930s have also
been utilized. Apart from poetry produced before the introduction and in the conclusion that I have
translated, all quotations of Iqbal’s poetry are from Mir (2000).
analytical inquiry undertaken along these lines hence allows for a rewarding engage-
ment with Iqbal’s ideas and activism.
Selfhood: Knowledge, Being, and Causal Efficacy
Framing the Problématique
In five of the seven chapters of his magnum opus, the RRTI, Iqbal (2012) mainly
focuses on the nature of knowledge and being and problematizes certain dominant
perspectives and theses concerning them. The problématique he puts forth at the
outset is that ‘religious faith ultimately rests’ on a ‘special type of inner experi-
ence’ – but ‘modern man, by developing habits of concrete thought ... has rendered
himself less capable of that experience which he further suspects because of its
liability to illusion’. A new type of concrete thought, accustomed to ascertaining the
reality of objects and states of being through their observable and measurable char-
acteristics, is one side of the problem. Iqbal emphatically concedes that, in his faith
community as well, one encounters the problem that inheritors of a contemplative
and experiential approach to religion lack the due ingenuity for making meaningful
communication possible. The ‘latter-day representatives’ of ‘genuine schools of
Sufism ... are perpetuating methods which were created for generations possessing
a cultural outlook differing, in important respects, from our own’ (xlv). Moreover,
the prevailing culture and politics of knowledge production had predisposed those
approaching religion from the outside to take an overly sceptical view of its founda-
tional premises. Given these power dynamics and issues of commensurability, com-
munication, and translatability, Iqbal was led to problematizing the prevalent state
of affairs in these terms (153):
[M]odern psychology has not yet touched even the outer fringe of the subject [of religious
experience]. Personally, I do not at all feel hopeful of the present state of things in either
biology or psychology. Mere analytical criticism with some understanding of the organic
conditions of the imagery in which religious life has sometimes manifested itself is not
likely to carry us to the living roots of human personality.
Iqbal makes the case for opening this impasse by referring to a Qur’ānic pronounce-
ment, ‘Your creation and resurrection, are like the creation and resurrection of a
single soul’ (31:28). For him, this verse is a testament to the ‘biological unity’ of
human beings. Likewise, he asserts, unity also exists at the level of innate capacities
which can produce a ‘living experience’ that offers a firm basis for religious belief
and conduct.6 However, any intellectual inquiry into a living experience of this kind
6
Theologically, this contention is supported by the Qur’ānic verse (30:30), ‘stand firm and true in
your devotion to the religion. This is the natural disposition God instilled in mankind’ (Haleem,
2005: 258). Where translated verses from the Qur’ān are not taken from Haleem (2005), they have
been reproduced from Iqbal’s writings.
42 S. Ali
‘requires today a method physiologically less violent and psychologically more

suitable’ and accommodating. This would help stimulate perceptivity in minds dis-
posed to a ‘concrete type’ of thinking (xlv).
Epistemological Commitments
Knowledge, according to Iqbal’s twofold characterization, ‘is sense-perception

elaborated by understanding’ (10) – and it comes about as ‘a systematized expres-
sion of consciousness’. Here he defines consciousness as ‘a state of self-
concentration’ and awareness. Having ‘no well-defined fringes, it shrinks and
expands as the occasion demands’. Most importantly, consciousness ‘is not a sub-
stance, but an organizing principle’ that is ‘purely spiritual’ and, therefore, ‘an inde-
pendent activity’ that cannot be taken ‘as an epiphenomenon of the processes of
matter’ (33). The other constituent element of knowledge, i.e. sense-perception,
also assumes a peculiar sense in Iqbal’s usage. Knowledge yielding inputs of sense
organs that receive stimuli from our physical environment are to be accorded due
significance. However, Iqbal asserts that to experience life and Reality in a holistic
manner, this ‘sense-perception must be supplemented by the perception of what the
Qur’an [32:9] describes as Fu’ād or Qalb, i.e. heart: God ... shaped him, and
breathed of His spirit unto him, and gave you hearing and seeing and heart’ (12).
The heart, he argues, offers ‘a kind of inner intuition’ that ‘brings us into contact
with aspects of Reality other than those open to sense-perception’ (13). Though for
all its life imbuing potential, the psycho-spiritual nature of this organ remains even
more elusive than the consciousness and intuition emanating from it and, therefore,
makes Iqbal exclaim with exuberant awe (Mir, 2000: 134):
My heart! My heart! My heart!
My ocean, my boat, my shore!
Did you fall like dew on my dusty being,
Or did you sprout like a bud out of my soil?
Nonetheless, he cautions against disregarding intuition ‘as a mysterious special fac-

ulty’, since inexplicability cannot be a warrant for some reductive materialism to
obfuscate, trivialize, or negate such phenomena. To make this faculty familiar, he
posits that it is ‘a mode of dealing with Reality in which sensation, in the physiolog-
ical sense of the word, does not play any part’. It is a mode of awareness that can
guide the organizing and systematizing role of consciousness in the process of
knowledge production to particular ends – most crucially with regard to our theo-
logical and ethical judgements. Consciousness and intuitive experience are spiritual
dimensions of our being without which ‘we could never be sure of the’ existence
and ‘reality of our own self’ – and which also allow us to problematize the assump-
tion of modern empiricism ‘that our knowledge of the external world through sense-
perception is the type of all knowledge’ (2012: 15).
This intuitive experience is characterized by its ‘immediacy’, an attribute it
shares with other forms of experience; and an ‘unanalysable wholeness’, which
makes it distinct from experience derived from conventional sense organs (14).
Moreover, the state which the bearer of this experience finds himself in ‘is highly
objective and cannot be regarded as’ a figment of ‘pure subjectivity’ (15). Attempts
to delegitimize intuition that describe it ‘as psychic, mystical, or supernatural do not
detract from’ and diminish ‘its value as experience’ because, as Iqbal argues (13):
The revealed and mystic literature ... bears ample testimony to the fact that religious experi-
ence has been too enduring and dominant in the history of mankind to be rejected as mere
illusion. There seems to be no reason, then, to accept the normal level of human experience
as fact and reject its other levels as mystical and emotional. The facts of religious experi-
ence are facts among other facts of human experience and, in the capacity of yielding
knowledge by interpretation, one fact is as good as another.
Iqbal maintains that, set on an empiricist path given to an inhibitive search for bio-
logical correlates that organically determine what is experienced by humans, ‘our
newer psychologists’ are ‘bound to fail’ in their attempts to study religious experi-
ence ‘as a form of knowledge’. Based on the Qur’ān and relying on evidence drawn
from the introspective and contemplative insights of legions of pre-modern mystics,
the Iqbalian approach points to the heart as the root of religious awareness and intu-
ition. ‘Religious experience’, he posits, ‘is essentially a state of feeling with a cogni-
tive aspect’ (21). This experience/feeling is able to generate cognitive content
because ‘all feeling ... lends itself to the form of idea’ and seeks ‘expression in
thought’. Hence, to reclaim intellectual space and integrity for this domain of human
experience, Iqbal argues that ‘while religion starts with feeling, it has never, in its
history, taken itself as a matter of feeling alone and has constantly striven after
metaphysics’ (17). He thereby problematizes and counters the received opinion of
his age that ‘the normal level’ of experience derived from conventional sense-organs
‘is the only level of knowledge-yielding experience’ (144). Moreover, to avoid cog-
nitive dissonance, category mistakes, and baseless turf wars, he emphasizes the
need for domain demarcation. It is argued that as a mode of knowing, religion pri-
marily ‘aims at interpreting a totally different region of human experience–religious
experience–the data of which cannot be reduced to the data of any other science’
(20). Iqbal thus achieves significant continuity with a pre-modern traditionalist
Islam while seeing through epistemic blinders erected by empiricist scientism and
materialist philosophies that operated under the aegis of European colonialism.
Ontological and Causal Theses
Iqbal’s epistemological outlook seeks to extend our ontological horizon beyond

mundane material realities. While Islam ‘says “yes” to the world of matter and
points the way to master it’ in order to provide tangible common ground for ‘a real-
istic regulation of life’, this is achieved through ‘affirmation of the spiritual self in
man’ by ensuring ‘contact of the ideal with the real’ (8). ‘Natural Science’, Iqbal
argues, ‘is by nature sectional’; driven by ‘interests of precision’, this essentially
partial pursuit falls short of taking ‘a complete view of Reality’ (34). Ultimately, it
44 S. Ali
offers ‘a mass of sectional views of Reality’ which is unable to account for aspects
of existence that remain potentially accessible to us (33). Iqbal alludes to a verse in
the Qur’ān (41:53)7 to assert that this paramount scripture for Muslims regards
‘Anfus (self) and Afāq (world)’ as distinct but intertwined dimensions of existence
and experience – which can be holistically accessed by humans ‘as sources of
knowledge’. He therefore contends that, from a Qur’ānic perspective, ‘it is the duty
of man to judge the knowledge-yielding capacity of all aspects of experience’ (101).
This expansive, assimilative, and integrated vision of Reality draws on the Qur’ānic
pronouncement that ‘(God) adds to His creation what He wills’, to posit that ours ‘is
not a block universe, a finished product, immobile and incapable of change’ (8).
Moreover, being the most superior sentient creation endowed with unique imagina-
tive and creative potential, humans are not meant to have a passive and inconse-
quential existence. The human self actively reveals and partakes in the progressive
dynamism exhibited by the universe. Therefore, he self-assuredly states (Mir,
2000: 143):
My entire being is a meaning sealed,
I cannot abide the looks of word-spinners.
I cannot be called free — or pre-determined —
Because I am living clay, and for ever changing!
Iqbal refers to theses of pre-modern Sufi stalwarts which postulate that (a) ‘God is
a percept, the world is a concept’, and (b) there exists a ‘plurality of space-orders
and time-orders’ across different realms of existence. The latter postulate also
‘speaks of a Divine Time and a Divine Space’ (2012: 144), which as suggested in
Iqbal’s verses produced above allows for the dissolution of supposed tensions
between freedom and predestination. God being the Creator of all time-orders has a
supra-temporal existence – He is ‘prior to the universe, and operating upon it from
without’ (88). Hence, His foreknowledge of all that was/is to happen in our time-
order issues from the fact that He is beyond and ahead of time. From the vantage
point of supra-temporality, God views our choices in this life as past matters that are
done and decided for Him, not by having predetermined them for us. From a human
standpoint, Iqbal emphasizes ‘the spontaneity of life, which is a fact of actual expe-
rience’ for us, and eschews autonomy denying conjectures about predestination
borne out of ‘pure speculation’ (63). Within the broad parameters providing for
conditions that frame the test of this life, humans have real autonomy for making
decisions and expanding their options. So the harsh reckoning to come from God,
the Qur’ān (8:51) declares, ‘is caused by what your own hands have stored up for
you: God is never unjust to His creatures’ (Haleem, 2005: 113). These theological
insights dissolve the apparent paradox of statements in the Qur’ān such as (2:187) –
‘seek what God has ordained for you’ (Haleem, 2005: 21) – that enjoin humans to
act, for attaining what has been preordained. Therefore, as a norm the givens of our
situation are not fixed, aspiring and enterprising humans who ably exercise their
7
‘We shall show them Our signs in every region of the earth and in themselves, until it becomes
clear to them that this is the Truth’ (Haleem, 2005: 310).
khudi (ego/selfhood) have always shown that constraints imposed by contexts and
circumstances can be overcome in life-altering ways. To harness a liberated ego,
Iqbal rousingly implores (Mir, 2000: 143):
Why is there no storm in your sea?
Why is your khudi not Muslim?
It is pointless to complain of God’s decree —
Why are you not God’s decree?
It is possible to chart such relational dynamics at the interface of our realm of exis-
tence and ‘other orders of space and time’ (Iqbal, 2012: 144–145), though we are
unable to venture beyond our realm and comprehend the reality of other/Divine
space-orders and time-orders. Therefore, much cannot be conceptualized and artic-
ulated about the nature of God’s existence – purely by recourse to religious experi-
ence and unaided by revealed guidance. God emerges as a percept rather than a
concept, and religious experience pertaining to Him remains incommunicable ‘due
to the fact that it is essentially a matter of inarticulate feeling, untouched by discur-
sive intellect’ (17). Although inconclusive by itself, such higher religious experi-
ence is strongly suggestive of certain realities, and it carries ‘a deep sense of
authority’ for its bearer (18). Iqbal discerningly points out that when mystic con-
sciousness is plugged into the totality of Reality, ‘the ordinary distinction of subject
and object does not exist’ in that state. He retrieves the essence of this elevated
experience in these terms (15):
[To] the mystic the mystic state is a moment of intimate association with a Unique Other
Self, transcending, encompassing, and momentarily suppressing the private personality of
the subject of experience.
Iqbal is alert to the need to ‘prove the veritable “otherness” of the Self experienced’
through mystic consciousness. He makes an apt analogy with our routine ‘experi-
ence of other minds’ where response from the other side allows us to ‘infer the
presence of another conscious being’ (15). Similarly, ‘no doubt’ response is also
‘the test of the presence’ of a Unique Other Self. Iqbal argues that this Qur’ānic
verse (2:186) ‘takes the same view’ (16): ‘[Prophet], if My servants ask you about
Me, I am near. I respond to those who call Me, so let them respond to Me, and
believe in Me, so that they may be guided’ (Haleem, 2005: 20).
Since the content of religious experience pertaining to such ontological realities
‘cannot be communicated to others, except in the form of a judgement’, Iqbal lays
down two tests in order to augment the evidential value of this experience for its
bearer to a conclusive level and to ‘reveal its validity’ to others. His ‘intellectual
test’ employing ‘critical interpretation’ and the ‘pragmatic test’ which uncovers the
unique utility of genuine religious experience surely have their merits (Iqbal, 2012:
21). However, as someone engaged in research and teaching in the discipline of
International Relations, my sociohistorical sensibilities derive greater certitude
from another feature highlighted by Iqbal – the unique historicity exhibited by the
46 S. Ali
scripture (Qur’ān) and the Prophet of Islam.8 There is much to learn here from the
renowned theologian and mystic Ahmad Sirhindi (1564–1624) who, according to
Iqbal, was ‘a great religious genius’ (152). Iqbal clarified that his philosophy was ‘a
direct development out of the experience and speculation of old Muslim Sufis and
thinkers’ and resisted attempts to trace the origin of his views in modern ideas. He
had referred to contemporary thinkers for enhancing the intelligibility of his views
across knowledge cultures and to bring into conversation common human concerns.
For him, the suggestive pointers and profound perplexities emanating from reli-
gious experience cannot be disregarded for want of objectivity and precision. His
belief and value system were not determined by the prevailing modern/Western
episteme, and neither could it take over as the sole touchstone of validity. Hence,
Iqbal informed his translator Reynold A. Nicholson that, references to modern
thinkers notwithstanding, the source of his views on ‘the human person in relation
to the Divine Person’ was the pre-modern genius Ahmad Sirhindi (Iqbal, 2021: 147).
Sirhindi’s revived traditionalist approach sought to establish certain events as
Divine interventions having no possibility of emergence through the normal course
of nature and human effort. Complemented by them, the mystic’s strongly sugges-
tive religious experience about the existence of God is granted decisive conclusive-
ness. In his earliest extant treatise ‘Iṣbāt-un-Nabuwwa’ (The Affirmation of
Prophethood), Sirhindi (1984) presents the Qur’ān as the foremost Divine interven-
tion made on behalf of the Prophet of Islam. One inimitable aspect of this scripture
discussed by him is its uniquely accurate foretelling of events. Going by Sirhindi’s
logic, it can be argued that the most significant prediction with far-reaching impact
was made in this Qur’ānic verse (15:9): ‘We have sent down the Qur’an Ourself, and
We Ourself will guard it’ (Haleem, 2005: 162). Besides predicting that the Qur’ān
will remain safe from corruption, the Divine guardianship invested in the protection
of its textual sanctity also entailed an on-going demonstration of Divine interven-
tion.9 Making the Qur’ān a self-validating scripture, this inimitable Divine interven-
tion also assigns to it a validity-granting role that affirms the messengership of the
Prophet of Islam. The Prophet’s religious experience as inscribed in the Qur’ān and
reliable Hadith reports10 thus achieves Divine attestation and ownership and
8
Iqbal repeatedly emphasized this aspect of historicity by claiming that the advent and advance of
Islam on the world stage had taken place ‘in the broad daylight of history’; in this regard, he dis-
cusses the uniqueness of the Prophet of Islam and the Message he was sent with in his articles –
‘Islam as a Moral and Political Ideal’ and ‘Islam and Mysticism’ (Iqbal, 2015).
9
Before the Qur’ān could undergo printing and mass dissemination beginning in the late Ottoman
Empire, for more than a millennium it was exposed to the same conditions that had corrupted
scriptures of ancient religions, chiefly – the scarcity of writing materials, and schismatic sectarian-
ism resulting in a subversion of transmitted texts. Allegations against sectarian others of failed
attempts to alter certain parts of the Qur’ān notwithstanding, Sunni or Shia, the extant canonical
text of the scripture transmitted and relied upon by them has remained the same ‘Uthmānic
Recension. Al-Azmi (2020) and Al-Khu’i (1998), respectively, offer the standard Sunni and Shia
accounts of how the Qur’ānic text was preserved and transmitted.
10
Citation of the Prophet’s traditions in this study follows the numbering of online Hadith reposi-
tories sunnah.com and dorar.net.
becomes the criterion for determining the veracity of insights offered by the reli-
gious experience of non-prophets. Iqbal’s approach pre-empts possible criticism
that, through such argumentation, pre-modern traditionalist thought has put undue
constraints on our intuitive and imaginative freedom. Whereas, backed by Divine
attestation and ownership, the Prophet’s religious experience is qualitatively distinct
and superior – and therefore, in a position to guide and check the liberties our mind
can take for interpreting our religious experience. The doctrinal tenet of Finality of
Prophethood enshrined in the Qur’ān11 and successive (mutawātir) Hadith narra-
tions, asserting that the Prophet of Islam was last in a long line of prophets since
Adam, limits the extent to which human liberty can be curtailed in the domain of
religious experience (Iqbal, 2012: 101):
The idea of finality ... tends to create an independent critical attitude towards mystic experi-
ence by generating the belief that all personal authority, claiming a supernatural origin, has
come to an end in the history of man. This kind of belief is a psychological force which
inhibits the growth of such authority. The function of the idea is to open up fresh vistas of
knowledge in the domain of man’s inner experience.
Guided by the Prophet’s religious experience, the inner experience of Muslims is

directed to a broad and dynamic ontological outlook that can significantly enhance
their causal efficacy in the scheme of existence. While acknowledging that sound
cultivation and utilization of mystic consciousness is crucially important for an indi-
vidual’s religious evolution, Iqbal stresses that one ‘cannot afford to ignore the vis-
ible’. He deplores mystical tendencies found throughout human history that
‘approached Reality exclusively from within’ and hence culminated in ‘theory with-
out power, and on mere theory no durable civilization can be based’ (12). A notable
early figure in Sirhindi’s spiritual lineage, Abul Qāsim Gurgāni (d. 1058), made
incisive observations about the psychology of religious experience by problematiz-
ing excessive reliance on mystical contemplation. Gurgāni argued that whether in
possession of a spiritual state or deposed from it, a wayfarer is susceptible to impro-
vising certain outcomes because ‘he clothes his imagination in words’ and ‘never
escapes from the prison of imagination’. Avoiding self-deception and self-
aggrandizement, it ‘behoves him to ... put away from himself every relation ...
except that of manhood and obedience’ (Al-Hujwiri, 1911: 170). This approach to
wayfaring abjures notions of annihilation of the human self/ego that impinge on its
agency and individuality and accords with Iqbal’s observation that the Qur’ān
‘emphasizes deed rather than idea’ (2012: xlv).
Iqbal’s foregoing theological insights liberate and empower people of faith by
establishing a peculiar association between the human person and the Divine Person.
This association is achieved through a ‘reconstruction of the finite ego by bringing
him into contact with an eternal life-process ... of which we can have only a partial
understanding in the half-choking atmosphere of our present environment’ (Iqbal,
2012: 154). He celebrates the abiding vitality of the Abrahamic heritage and calls
11
The finality, perfection and universality of his prophetic mission are discussed in these Qur’ānic
verses: 33:40, 5:3, 6:19, 7:158, 34:28 and 21:107.
48 S. Ali
for resisting the scepticism inducing materialist currents ushered in by modernity

(Mir, 2000: 145):
Faith, like Abraham, sits down in the fire;
To have faith is to be drawn into God and to be oneself.
Listen, you captive of modern civilisation,
To lack faith is worse than slavery!12
For Iqbal, the ‘final experience’ nestled in constant God-consciousness ‘is the
human ego rising higher than mere reflection, and mending its transiency by appro-
priating the eternal’. Having attained to this final experience, a spiritual wayfarer
secures empowerment in the face of daunting conditions and liberation from base
desires. The reorientation of one’s self-image and worldview thus achieved – leads
one to ‘a more fundamental “I am” which finds evidence of its reality not in the
Cartesian “I think” but in the Kantian “I can”’ (Iqbal, 2012: 156). He revealingly
elaborates (157):
The final act is not an intellectual act, but a vital act which deepens the whole being of the
ego, and sharpens his will with the creative assurance that the world is not something to be
merely seen or known through concepts, but something to be made and re-made by continu-
ous action.13
Unlike Iqbal’s viewpoint, the long dominating realist perspective in IR takes human
nature to be static. Classical realists down to Hans Morgenthau developed their
theoretical arguments on first-image micro-foundations grounded in human nature.
An overhang of such assumptions found its way to structural realism to the extent
that, despite the nuance he brought to this debate, Kenneth Waltz ended up implying
‘that human nature was both negative and fixed’ (Crawford, 2009: 284). While the
propensity of humans to become self-interested to the detriment of others and
thereby plunge into greed and oppression is confirmed by the Qur’ān, it does not
assign human nature a fixed role. The path to self-affirmation that Iqbal sought to
rehabilitate by delinking seekers from the prevailing episteme activates a potent
dynamism in the human person by linking it to the Divine Person, which ‘is a ratio-
nally directed creative life’. Once established, this bond ‘holds together and focal-
izes the dispersing dispositions’ of the human person ‘for a constructive purpose’
(Iqbal, 2012: 48). The causal efficacy he seeks for humans involves a rigorous rejec-
tion of empiricist epistemological approaches that generate insular materialist
ontologies. Although ‘there are aspects of the activity of a living organism which it
shares with’ objects in the non-sentient material world, where cause ‘acts from
12
With regard to slavery, Iqbal (2015: 105) contends that although concessions were made to press-
ing ‘social conditions’, the Prophet ‘took away the whole [exploitative] spirit of this institution’,
and Muslim conduct under ‘the early Caliphs’ also had this emancipatory thrust – thus providing
for a transitory middle phase which could eventually result in its full abolition. For an authoritative
study on this topic, see Brown (2019).
13
Initiation on this path of spiritual development isn’t reserved for elect believers. Shah Wali Allah
(1703–1762), considered to be ‘the last great theologian of Islam’ by Iqbal (2012: 97) – made the
observation that ‘in every human’s intellect there is [ingrained] a direction towards the Holy Deity’
(Murādabadi, 1891: 160).
without’, for Iqbal causation in the domain of human thought and action is defined
by ‘end’ and ‘purpose’ that ‘act from within’ (34). As demonstrated by Iqbal’s own
highly impactful life, achieving a psychological configuration that allows one to
harmonize his/her life pursuits with God’s Will as enshrined in His revealed guid-
ance endows one with a world-making/altering resolve. Prepared to elicit and actu-
alize God’s decree through his struggle, Iqbal prayed (Mir, 2000: 136):
Make me fill this world with commotion,
And completely change the earth and the sky.
Raise a new Adam from our dust,
And kill this slave of profit and loss.
ollective Conduct: Pursuing Peace Across Faiths

C
and Civilizations
Envisioning a Theopolitical Ideal
In March 1938, just over a month before his demise, Iqbal had the last word in a
heated public argument with a noted religious figure – by issuing a thoroughgoing
and impassioned statement in the press on ‘Islam and Nationalism’. His reform
project aimed at putting the collective conduct of Muslims on the path to peace and
prosperity, is complex and multi-faceted, and therefore defies simplification and
summary descriptions. In this extensive quotation from Iqbal’s final press statement,
the broad contours of that ambitious project emerge in sharp relief and we are pro-
vided with a miniature manifesto (Iqbal, 2015: 311):
The ultimate purpose of the prophetic mission of Muhammad (may peace be upon him) is
to create a form of society, the constitution of which follows that divine law [sic] which [he]
received from God. In other words, the object is to purify ... the world of the abuses which
go by the name of time, place, land, nation, race, genealogy, country, etc., although the dif-
ferences of nations, tribe, colours and languages are at the same time acknowledged. It is
thus to bestow upon man that spiritual idea which at every moment of his life remains in
constant contact with Eternity. This is where Muhammad stands and this is the ideal of the
Muslim community.
It is clear from this programmatic statement that religion is not to be divorced from
politics; for Iqbal, religion is the main force by which politics is to be spiritualized
and humanized. Utmost commitment to this sacred agenda, however, did not push
Iqbal into seeking hurried revolutionary change by relying on nominally religious
elements. A dysfunctional society cannot give rise to a functioning state – and in
possession of a territorial homeland or not, key freedoms will remain elusive for an
ethically impoverished people (Mir, 2000: 144):
God gives that nation sovereignty
Which inscribes its fate with its own hand;
He will have nothing to do with the nation
Whose peasants till the land for others.
50 S. Ali
The task of raising an ethically evolved society whose members own and adhere to
a certain belief and value system precedes the goal of creating a functioning state
that can formalize their normative approach to life in terms of law and devise struc-
tures and processes for its implementation. This Iqbal knew would require a sus-
tained struggle by several generations – with the right intentions, in the right
direction, and by employing the right means. Therefore, he unreservedly expressed
his doubt as to ‘[h]ow many centuries will it take’ to bring about such a noble soci-
ety; yet he harboured ‘no doubt’ whatsoever that ‘in removing the material differ-
ences between the nations of the world and in bringing about harmony among them
in spite of their differences’ Islam has played and will continue to play a pivotal role
(Iqbal, 2015: 311). In case of Pakistan, the flow of events since the late 1920s had
resulted in dead-ends that made the instant acquisition of an independent Muslim
majority state the only safe option. While Iqbal had eventually urged Jinnah to work
for the establishment of a separate state, he was too well aware of his community’s
shortcomings to be under any illusion that the acquired Muslim homeland would
develop into a functioning state anytime soon.14
Deprived of autonomy and authority under colonial rule, Iqbal diagnosed that ‘a
Muslim’s mind and heart’ had become ‘overpowered by’ the European political
ideal of secular ‘nationalism’ (311). Such a Muslim normalizes and perpetuates
mankind’s sharp divisions into nations – and by having denied his ‘heart and con-
science’ a firm grounding in ‘immutable divine law [sic]’ has become ‘a victim of
spiritual paralysis’ (312). The ideal before Iqbal is a society that largely comprises
of genuinely devoted believers ‘to whose thoughts and actions’ this Qur’ānic verse
(2:143) ‘justly applies’ (312): ‘We have made you [believers] into a just community,
so that you may bear witness [to the truth] before others’ (Haleem, 2005: 16). Yet a
denial had set in under the influence of ‘innovations of present-day political think-
ers’, about the need to prepare ground for empowering this faith community
entrusted with the responsibility to uphold justice and impartiality. Denying and
discounting this vital force for good and constructive change, Iqbal argued, ‘is to do
violence to mankind as well as to the universality of that prophetic mission which
gave birth to it’ (311).
Revisioning the Past
Soon after the English translation of Iqbal’s first philosophical poem in Persian
(Asrār-i-Khudi) was published in 1920, concerns were raised in Britain that by
seeking for his faith community a decisive position in world affairs, Iqbal was call-
ing for a renewed Muslim imperialism. However, even in his first published treatise
on Islam and politics, it was asserted that the envisaged political return of Islam will
14
For instance, Iqbal had deploringly said of his Muslim majority home province: ‘Nowhere in
India has the ignorance of Islamic history, theology, jurisprudence and Sufism been so successfully
exploited as in the Punjab’ (Iqbal, 2015: 297).
proceed ‘not by physical force, but by the spiritual force of a common ideal’ (Iqbal,
1908a: 251). Since that early expression of his mature thought, Iqbal’s advocacy of
an Islamic political revival had consistently ruled out resort to offensive warfare.
Crucially, his traditionalist moorings and critical approach necessitated a fresh
assessment of past precedents. Hence, there are episodes and phases of Muslim his-
tory Iqbal is not willing to recognize as Islamic. Indeed, since the Umayyad Dynasty,
political consolidation of Arab empires (and later also of non-Arab ones) had often
come on the heels of violent aggression directed against both Muslims and non-
Muslims. The Prophet is reported to have said that the people of Quraish ‘will be the
first’ among those who would rule Muslims, to bring destruction upon themselves
by giving in to their desires – ‘it will be a disease’ that will afflict hearts and minds
and ‘make the powerful devour the weak’.15 Iqbal (2012: 88) refers to the verdict of
an early authoritative orthodox figure, to make a pointed observation about how
oppression came to be tolerated in Muslim societies:
Ma’bad is reported to have said to Hasan of Basra that the Umayyads killed Muslims, and
attributed their acts to the decrees of God. “These enemies of God”, replied Hasan, “are
liars”. Thus arose, in spite of open protests by Muslim divines, a morally degrading
Fatalism, and the constitutional theory known as the “accomplished fact” in order to sup-
port vested interests. This is not at all surprising. In our own times philosophers have fur-
nished a kind of intellectual justification for the finality of the present capitalistic structure
of society.
Besides history, the conclusions reached by him are based on a contextualized read-
ing of the supreme scripture of Islam. ‘All the wars undertaken during the lifetime
of the Prophet were defensive’, and only such warfare, he claims, is ‘permitted by
the Quran’ (Iqbal, 2015: 111). Strength, courage, and resolve are positive traits of a
believer’s evolved personality that have immense importance for Iqbal. However,
these hard attributes ought to be nurtured in order to hold one’s own and stand one’s
ground in the quest for upholding justice and impartiality. These personality traits
are not to be developed on lines that jeopardise human security by giving way to
aggression and oppression.
Iqbal’s pacifist and egalitarian ideals are inspired by ‘the Quran and the traditions
of the Prophet’, and he was ‘absolutely sure that territorial conquest was no part of
the original programme of Islam’ (Iqbal, 2021: 146). This is clearly indicated by the
Prophet’s dictate to ‘leave the Ethiopians alone so long as they leave you alone, and
leave the Turks alone so long as they leave you alone.’16 It was the readiness of a
non-Muslim community to initiate violent confrontation against Muslims that in
15
Musnad Ahmad, Hadiths 24519 and 24596. It is also reported that when the Prophet found his
companions discussing the Antichrist/Dajjāl who will appear at the end times, he warned that for
them (and by extension for all Muslims to come before the end times) – what he feared more than
the trial (fitnah) associated with the Dajjāl, was a trial that will afflict Muslims from within
(Musnad Ahmad, Hadith 23304; and Sahih Ibn Hibbān, Hadith 6807). He said that there has been
a trial for every community, and the trial for his community is wealth (Jami’ at-Tirmidhi, Hadith
2336; and Sahih Ibn Hibbān, Hadith 3223). Hence, exceptions aside, Muslim elite are perennially
implicated for their pursuit and abuse of power for the sake of amassing wealth (see fn. 19).
16
Sunan Abi Dawud, Hadith 4302; and Sunan an-Nasa’i, Hadith 3176.
52 S. Ali
turn legitimized defensive use of force against them. Since Ethiopians and Turks
had not shown such belligerence towards Muslims, they could be left alone despite
their persistence in disbelief. Moreover, along with Qur’ānic statements taken
together and read in their proper context, I consider an identical report in the two
foremost canonical hadith compilations to have significant paradigm shaping value.
In the course of a military engagement where the opponent did not turn up to fight,
the Prophet is reported to have said to his companions: ‘Do not wish for an encoun-
ter with the enemy, and pray to Allah to grant you security.’17 Hence, use of force
that puts human lives and livelihood at risk is not desirable in any conflict situa-
tion – it is incumbent upon Muslims to avoid harm and seek security from such
violent confrontation.
We therefore find the Qur’ān (48:1) designating the Treaty of Ḥudaybiya that
brought about a cessation of violent conflict between the Muslims of Medina and
their adversaries in Mecca, as a clear victory. To reach that compromise settlement
with the Meccans, the Prophet had calmly passed over the flared thinking and senti-
ments of many of his companions who were eager to confront the Meccans, for
having refused access to the Holy Sanctuary where Muslims wanted to perform
their pilgrimage rites. The settlement was reached by keeping a brewing crisis from
flaring up into a violent encounter, even though at times Muslims had the upper
hand.18 The Meccans, in their ‘fury of ignorance’, had stubbornly denied Muslims
the right to undertake the pilgrimage. Though as true believers Muslims were
expected to conduct themselves with restraint and patience in order to reach a peace-
ful settlement that, in God’s judgement, was nothing short of a clear victory. Thus,
an aggravating crisis was effectively diffused through a pacification of their posture,
as the Qur’ān states (48:26): ‘God sent His tranquillity down on to His Messenger
and the believers and made binding on them [their] promise to obey God, for that
was more appropriate and fitting for them’ (Haleem, 2005: 336). It is also notewor-
thy that while informing his companions about the most superior struggle (jihad),
the Prophet did not exclusively fix their gaze on an external front of hegemonic
non-Muslim adversaries, and nor was use of force the preferred means for effecting
change. His pronouncement sensitizes believers about the need to focus on an inter-
nal front within Muslim polities, as well; it also establishes that oppression is a
greater wrong than disbelief, and a righteous word is more powerful than any
weapon – ‘the best jihad is a word of justice spoken to an oppressive ruler’.19
17
Sahih al-Bukhari, Hadith 3024; and Sahih Muslim, Hadith 1742a. Generally, the latter part of
this report is quoted in isolation that enjoins believers to show endurance when they face an enemy
and gives the glad tiding that paradise is under the shade of swords.
18
Qur’ānic verse 48:24: ‘In the valley of Mecca it was He who held their hands back from you and
your hands back from them after He gave you the advantage over them’ (Haleem, 2005: 336).
19
Sunan Abi Dawud, Hadith 4344; and Sunan Ibn Majah, Hadith 4011. The Prophet is reported to
have said that, he feared that the security and wellbeing of his community (Ummah) as a whole will
be in peril due to its own deviant and ‘misguiding leaders’, and once in-fighting ‘among them
would begin it will not end till the end times’ (Musnad Ahmad, Hadith 22395; and Sahih Ibn
Hibbān, Hadith 7238).
Furthermore, for me the ideals of freedom from fear and freedom from want pro-
moted by the contemporary human security discourse have a well-founded theo-
logical basis as they find repeated expression in the Qur’ān.20 Therefore, there is
much tangible common ground for formulating and pursuing a common agenda
that, in Iqbal’s words, can ‘place international morality on a sure basis’ (Iqbal, 2021:
142). This point receives a persuasive theological substantiation from him (Iqbal,
2015: 26):
Indeed the first practical step that Islam took towards ... a final combination of humanity
was to call upon peoples possessing practically the same ethical ideal to come forward and
combine. The Quran [3:64] declares: “O people of the Book! Come, let us join together on
the ‘word’ (Unity of God), that is common to us all.” The wars of Islam and Christianity,
and later, European aggression in its various forms, could not allow the infinite meaning of
this verse to work itself out in the world of Islam.
So from the Muslim side as well, bridge-building will require a reorientation of

thinking about inter-faith/national relations – by retrieving and owning the ideals
and values discussed above. Under the Rightly Guided Caliphate, threats posed by
major belligerent hegemons surrounding the Arabian Peninsula (chiefly the
Byzantine and Sasanian empires) had been justly neutralized.21 But Iqbal disowns
episodes of non-defensive warfare initiated by Muslims in the centuries to follow –
beyond the immediate non-Arab periphery of the core Arab lands that were meant
to jointly constitute a secure home for Muslims and their faith. He refers to the
acceptance won by Islam in northwest China and in the Far East, mainly through the
influence of Muslim traders and migrants, hence proving that members of this faith
community could substantially contribute to its growth ‘by example and persuasion’
(144). Such persuasion, he argues, arises in the course of routine dealings between
peoples of diverse backgrounds and does not involve any overbearing demand to
enter the fold of Islam – because ‘Islam is an imperceptible and unfeelable biologico-
psychological activity which is capable of influencing the thoughts and actions of
mankind without any missionary effort’ (Iqbal, 2015: 311). Though owing to centu-
ries of socioreligious decadence among Muslims and their acceptance of despotic
imperial rule, ‘the universal and impersonal character of the ethical ideals of Islam
has been lost’. He prescribes that their mindset and conduct can be rectified by
‘tear[ing] off from Islam the hard crust which has immobilized an essentially
dynamic outlook on life ... to rediscover the original verities of freedom, equality,
20
Verse 16:112: ‘God presents the example of a town that was secure and at ease, with provisions
coming to it abundantly from all places. Then it became ungrateful for God’s blessings, so God
afflicted it with the garment of famine and fear, for what its people had done’ (Haleem, 2005: 173);
and 106:4: ‘worship the Lord of this House: who provides them with food to ward off hunger,
safety to ward off fear’ (Haleem, 2005: 438).
21
‘The Byzantines’, a chapter in the Qur’ān, begins by alluding to the rivalry between these
empires, it then states in verse 30:41: ‘Corruption has flourished on land and sea as a result of
people’s actions and He will make them taste the consequences of some of their own actions so that
they may turn back’ (Haleem, 2005: 259).
54 S. Ali
and solidarity’ as enshrined in the Qur’ān and in the Prophet’s teachings (Iqbal,
2012: 124).
Navigating the Present and Securing the Future
For much of the inter-war period in late colonial India, prior to the last year of his
life, Iqbal had not lost hope of achieving a united India where Muslims could enjoy
sufficient political, economic, and sociocultural autonomy for living by their reli-
gious ideals. Moreover, his conviction that as evolved believers Muslims can fruit-
fully exhibit the pristine values of Islam in their everyday interactions with
non-Muslims also demanded that a separation through an international border was
not brought about between the northern Muslim majority regions and the larger part
of India where non-Muslims were in a majority. Iqbal’s famous presidential address
at the AIML’s annual session of 1930 at Allahabad, therefore, proposed a confedera-
tional scheme that called ‘for the creation of a Muslim India within India’ (Iqbal,
2015: 10). His soft communitarian outlook envisaged a multi-faith polity founded
on the ‘principle that each group is entitled to free development on its own lines’,
where each autonomous and empowered community would ‘entertain the highest
respect for the customs, laws, religious and social institutions of other communities’
(9). He asserted that ‘the formation of a consolidated Muslim state’ as a unit of an
Indian confederation was ‘in the best interests of India and Islam’ (10). Iqbal argued
on that occasion that the ‘life of Islam as a cultural force’ in the Indian subcontinent
‘very largely depends on its centralisation in a specified territory’ (11). Still if a
consolidated Muslim state within India could not be achieved, as a minimum he
sought liberties and empowerment for Muslims in regions where they constituted a
majority, along with certain wider constitutional safeguards22 – as ‘repeatedly urged
by the All-India Muslim League and the All-India Muslim Conference’ (21). Iqbal
was adamant at that stage that both India and Islam would stand to gain if a consoli-
dated Muslim state was allowed to emerge in a confederational setup (12–13):
For India it means security and peace resulting from an internal balance of power; for Islam
an opportunity to rid itself of the stamp that Arabian Imperialism was forced to give it, to
mobilise its law, its education, its culture, and to bring them into closer contact with its own
original spirit and with the spirit of modern times.
Though by March 1932, when Iqbal delivered his presidential address at the AIMC’s
annual session held in Lahore, his hope for reaching either of the settlements dis-
cussed above had started to wane. Since the British Government had appointed the
22
Besides the goal to ensure ‘continuance of separate electorates’ and full provincial status for
parts of northwest India, he stated that ‘complete provincial autonomy’ which entailed ‘transfer of
power from Parliament to Indian provinces’, along with ‘equality of federal units, classification of
subjects, not into federal, central and provincial, but into federal and provincial only, majority
rights in the Punjab and Bengal, unconditional separation of Sind, and one-third share in the centre,
constitute no less essential elements of our demand’ (Iqbal, 2015: 36).
Simon Commission in November 1927 to workout constitutional reforms in consul-

tation with the Indian political leadership, Iqbal had supported and contributed to
efforts for building trust and agreement at the inter-communal level – whereby com-
mon demands could be put before the British side. For the reasons mentioned above,
he was even willing to show flexibility and a spirit of compromise by giving up the
ideal of a consolidated Muslim state within India and settle for lesser demands made
by the AIML and the AIMC. Before he left for Britain to attend the Second Round
Table Conference (7 September 1931–1 December 1931), in an interview given to
the Bombay Chronicle, Iqbal tried to dispel apprehensions about the liberties and
empowerment he was seeking for Muslims and the worldview he was trying to
inculcate in them. He insisted that while he wanted ‘to see Islam return to its pristine
simplicity’ in the lives of Muslims, he had ‘no prejudice against any community or
nation in the world’. As for the political scene in India, he hoped to ‘see Indians liv-
ing in peace’ and was ‘convinced that such a thing is possible even while every
community retains its culture and individuality’ (Iqbal, 1981: 55). However, dis-
mayed by several years of political wrangling with leaders of the Indian National
Congress (INC), Iqbal declared in his address at Lahore, ‘We tried the majority
community and found them unwilling to recognise the safeguards which we can
forgo only at the risk of complete extinction as a nation determined to live its own
life’ (Iqbal, 2015: 38). Earlier in the Allahabad address, he had already voiced his
grave concern that ‘a constitution [based] on the concept of a homogeneous India’
would undermine the liberties of its diverse communities – and ‘there will be no
peace in the country until’ they ‘are given opportunities of free self-development on
modern lines without abruptly breaking with their past’ (25).
The colonial matrix of power that Iqbal was trying to navigate had grown out of
the entangled power dynamics of the long eighteenth century. To strengthen their
position against local adversaries, major Indian power contenders – Mughals,
Marathas and Sikhs – had time and again co-opted European powers that were gain-
ing ground in India. Later under British Crown Rule, when the vast territory of India
underwent an unprecedented unification as a political entity, Muslims were turned
into a politically insignificant all India minority. Subsequently, influenced by the
nineteenth century educationist Syed Ahmad Khan, many Muslims had developed
the psyche of seeking security and politico-economic space in India by showing
unreserved loyalty to the British Empire. Such subservience to a foreign power was
to be tolerated in order to avoid an impending internal colonization at the hands of
an overwhelming indigenous majority – for as long as that majority failed to guar-
antee a rightful place for Muslims as India’s largest minority. After the British
Government convened the Round Table Conferences in the early 1930s, Iqbal ques-
tioned the soundness of such thinking among Muslims that resulted in an indefinite
exploitative subservience to the British Empire. Addressing Muslim political lead-
ers and workers at AIMC’s Lahore session, he invoked their sense of dignity and
direction and emphasized what was at stake (Iqbal, 2015: 38–39):
The British ... do not mean to function as an impartial holder of balance in India, and are
indirectly driving the Indian communities, which are mainly Hindus and Muslims, to a kind
of civil war ... The Muslim community is thus brought to face the question whether it is in
56 S. Ali
the interest of the community that their present policy which has so far obviated British
difficulties and brought no gain to the community shall continue ... if you decide to discon-
tinue this policy, your immediate duty is to prepare the whole community for the kind of
self-sacrifice without which no self-respecting people can live an honourable life. The most
critical moment in the history of the Indian Muslims has arrived. Do your duty or cease
to exist.
With waning hope, in this Lahore address Iqbal reiterated that, provided the INC
accepted the Muslim demands, ‘in view of the visible and invisible points of contact
between the various communities of India’ he was still willing to acknowledge ‘the
possibility of constructing a harmonious whole whose unity cannot be disturbed by
the rich diversity which it must carry within its own bosom’ (31).23
Though seeing that the trusting and accommodating approach he had consis-
tently promoted was not reciprocated from the other side of the political divide, in
the final phase of the freedom movement Iqbal was compelled to take a stronger
separatist course. In the aftermath of India’s first provincial elections held in the
winter of 1936–1937, intransigence shown by the INC leadership in attending to the
demands of the AIML and recognizing its representative status proved to be the last
straw for Iqbal. Thereupon, in an important series of letters he had written to Jinnah,
his long-held ideals and emerging political realities were reconciled through a fresh
assessment of the situation. His aims were still centered on creating conditions that
could achieve and sustain inter-communal peace in the subcontinent and secure
liberties and prosperity for all communities. Iqbal was alarmed by the ‘civil war’
like confrontation that had ‘been going on for some time in the shape of Hindu
Muslim riots’ and expressed his ‘honest conviction’ that establishing ‘a free Muslim
state or states’ was ‘the only way to solve the problem of bread for Muslims as well
as to secure a peaceful India’ (Iqbal, 1942: 18). Considering the persisting inflexi-
bility and overbearing attitude of the majority’s leadership, the ‘idea of a single
Indian federation’ now seemed ‘completely hopeless’ to him. Iqbal, therefore, con-
tended that Muslims were ‘entitled to self-determination’ and they should aim for
nothing less than a ‘separate federation of Muslim provinces’ (24). The agenda of
establishing an independent state for Muslims was thus an outcome of Iqbal’s eager-
ness to secure freedom from want and fear for India’s largest minority and to facili-
tate ‘enforcement of the Law of Islam and its further development in the light of
modern ideas’ (18).
While remaining rooted in a pre-modern religious tradition, Iqbal was keen to
inculcate an accepting and inclusive mindset that was open to ideas and experiences
that have improved the human condition. Advising Jinnah about the need to estab-
lish an egalitarian polity, he argued that ‘acceptance of social democracy in some
suitable form and consistent with the legal principles of Islam is not a revolution but
23
As letters written by him to Edward Thompson in 1934 reveal, at that stage of political advocacy
Iqbal was not in favour of any scheme that demanded ‘a separate federation of Muslim Provinces’
(Ahmad, 1979: 80). During the mid-1930s, he continued to promote the proposals made in his
Allahabad and Lahore addresses that asked for an ‘amalgamation’ of Muslim majority regions
within India (81).
a return to the original purity of Islam’ (Iqbal, 1942: 19). He prized competence and
was against ‘leaving the affairs of the State to mere mediocrities’ (Iqbal, 2015: 228).
Consequently, he was critical of modern democratic systems where adulthood is the
sole criterion for granting suffrage, and crucial factors such as education are not
allowed to have a bearing on the weightage of votes. Besides dealing judiciously
with the electorate, competence ought to be ensured for election contestants as well.
To compensate for their lack of expertise in Islamic law and theology, he proposed
that able ‘Ulema should form a vital part of a Muslim legislative assembly’ (Iqbal,
2012: 139–140). This Iqbalian stance averse to mediocrity brings into our view a
meritocratic democracy that can liberate people from exploitative power elites.
Moreover, he promotes an understanding of statecraft and governance that seeks to
achieve ‘internal security’ for a polity by ensuring ‘economic equality’ for its popu-
lace (Iqbal, 1981: 89). This entails eradication of false privilege and elite entitle-
ment that give rise to a predatory state which perpetuates social stratification; for
Iqbal, ‘all States engaged in exploitation are un-Godly’ (57). Therefore, merito-
cratic democracy requires fortification through a commitment to republican ideals
that, in Iqbal’s opinion, are ‘thoroughly consistent with the spirit of Islam’ (Iqbal,
2012: 125). Rule and supremacy of law rather than that of individuals, groups, and/
or institutions and vesting power in the citizen body as a whole are the core repub-
lican tenets that can sustain a meritocratic democracy.24
This path to political empowerment and consolidation requires a reform-oriented
critical introspection. Therefore, Iqbal advised that ‘every Muslim nation must sink
into her own deeper self’ and, instead of pursuing some merely symbolic union and
overlordship, ‘temporarily focus her vision on herself alone’. Once their ‘racial
rivalries are adjusted and harmonized by the unifying bond of a common spiritual
aspiration’, they will emerge as ‘a living family of republics’ (Iqbal, 2012: 126).
The role he envisages for this family of Muslim republics, internally as well as
externally, is to pursue peace and equality through maintenance of justice. Even for
the most daunting international conflicts involving global powers, he asserted that
‘sympathies of all right-thinking men’ should ‘be on the side of justice’ (Iqbal,
1981: 57). Eschewing expansion of territorial and communal boundaries through
violence and coercion, he directs Muslims to strive for a non-hegemonic global
order. Iqbal wanted Muslims to look upon their faith not as a ‘foe or even rival of’
other belief and value systems but as a ‘co-worker’ in the ‘work of civilization’ (89).
Iqbal countered misunderstandings that took ‘the spirit of Islam’ to be ‘so exclu-
sive’ as to deny it any constructive role for working towards a non-hegemonic order.
His theologically grounded soft communitarian approach is remarkably inclusive
and accommodating. He contends that in ‘the interests of a universal unification of
24
Iqbal (1908a: 250) refers to the verdict of the second Rightly Guided Caliph Umar that the
Muslim community as a whole has the right to elect its ruler (Sahih al-Bukhari, Hadith 6830; and
Musnad Ahmad, Hadith 391), to posit that for Islam political sovereignty ‘resides in the people;
and that the electorate by their free act of unanimous choice embody it in a determinate personality
in which the collective will is, so to speak, individualised, without investing this concrete seat of
power with any privilege in the eye of the law’.
58 S. Ali
mankind the Quran ignores their minor differences and says, “Come, let us unite on
what is common to us all!” ... All men and not Muslims alone are meant for the
Kingdom of God on earth’ (Iqbal, 2021: 145). The accommodation of multiple nor-
mative orders in intra-, inter-, and supra-state contexts requires that we cease to
employ mono-civilizational templates for viewing and ordering our world. Dialogue,
moderation, and fairness can help identify common ground and meeting points
between diverse normative orders and thereby provide a stable foundation for coex-
istence and cooperation. With faith and optimism, Iqbal holds out the hope and
challenge of achieving this noble goal (Mir, 2000: 126):
There is a world still lost in our hearts,
A world that still waits for the call of ‘Rise!’
A world without distinctions of blood and colour,
Where evening shines brighter
Than morning in the West;
A world purged of sultan and slave,
Boundless as a believer’s heart...
Conclusion
This one prostration before God that you find burdensome,

Relieves humans from a thousand prostrations before others!25
This paradigmatic couplet by Iqbal provides a microcosmic illustration of the liber-

ating effect of a believer’s devotion to God. He was, however, acutely aware that the
power imbalances and epistemic violence of his age had privileged a materialism
that induced widespread disenchantment with religion. Convinced of the world-
making vitality of the tradition he belonged to and going against the flow and
obstructions of his turbulent times, Iqbal attempted a retrieval of modes of personal-
ity development that were essentially pre-modern and, hence, counterintuitive for
an enlightenment inspired rationality. In an acclaimed poem26 penned in the final
years of his life, Iqbal stated that the focal point of his life-long endeavours was ‘to
salvage’ forgotten sages of yore ‘who had slipped’ from the weakening grasp of
modern minds. He was a harbinger of an epistemic revolt against scientism’s dele-
gitimizing onslaught that undermines the autonomy of human experience and
understanding.27 Communication and dialogue required linking experiences and
ideas across cultural and civilizational contexts, yet Iqbal took definite strides
towards delinking his knowledge and truth claims from terms of validity proffered
by a hegemonic scientism. From meta-level dicta of theological import that
25
Translated from the poem Namāz (ritual prayer) in his Urdu poetry collection Zarb-i-Kalīm
(Iqbal, 1972).
26
Zauq-o-Shauq (perceptivity and yearning), published in his Urdu poetry anthology Bāl-i-Jibrīl
(Iqbal, 1975).
27
For an incisive Wittgenstein inspired critique of scientism, see Hacker (2001: 34–73).
encompass theses about knowledge, being, and causality, Iqbal raised an edifice of
normative principles that seek to curb oppression and subjugation across local and
global contexts. Iqbalian liberation theology thus offers pluralistic and emancipa-
tory pathways to peace by taking an accommodating communitarian approach to
domestic and international affairs. It seeks emancipation from ignorance, injustice,
want, and fear by developing a human self that is free-spirited, God-conscious, and
compassionate. The individuals and polities hence reformed are expected to pro-
mote coexisting and collaborating normative orders that would agree on a wide
range of significant issues such as right to political participation, equal access to
economic opportunities, and principles of just war.
From an Iqbalian perspective, differences over end-times theology, other-worldly
salvation, and a host of other points of doctrine and practice do not preclude peace-
ful and constructive inter-faith relations. The ecumenical understanding between
faith communities sought by him makes no attempt to equalize them and mitigates
supremacist tendencies. For Iqbal, difference does not entail discord – heterogene-
ity, in and of itself, is neither a barrier to harmony nor a basis for hegemony. As
Hulmes (2014: 526) argues:
The truth claims of the world’s great religions need not be dismissed or simply ignored in
the pursuit of ecumenism. Iqbal serves as a model for believers who cherish the particular-
ity of the faith they profess. He continued to affirm that Islam is the ultimate ‘religion with
God’ because he believed it is uniquely capable of satisfying the deepest anxieties of the
human heart and head.
In Iqbal’s case, we find exclusive allegiance to a particular religion (Islam), though

this particularity is free from any prejudice and apathy towards ‘others’. Charles
Taylor (2010: xii) emphasizes that Iqbal had ‘left behind all identitarian rigidity’
and in him we find ‘the voice of a soul that is deeply anchored in the Quranic
Revelation, and precisely for that reason, open to all the other voices, seeking in
them the path of his own fidelity’. As Bruce Lawrence puts it, while Iqbal passion-
ately emulated ‘the arduous quest of Sufi masters from the Islamic past’, he had
‘challenged the present age to produce its own spiritual risk-takers’ who were capa-
ble of ‘seeking God’s blessing and pursuing knowledge of His Will’. The goal of
advancing spiritual self-affirmation at the individual level was intimately associated
with his ultimate quest ‘to bridge Islam and the modern world without supporting
colonialism or embracing atheism’ (Lawrence, 2006: 154–155). To attain and main-
tain collective security, communal autonomy, and individual freedoms, a critical
mass of reformed individuals is required who have liberated themselves from base
desires and unjust aspirations through their devotion to God.
The lasting relevance of Iqbal’s insights and arguments owes much to his excep-
tional foresight. In 1988, on Iqbal’s fiftieth death anniversary, Annemarie Schimmel
noted that ‘studying the Javidnama [sic] with my students at Harvard, we find with
great delight expressions in his poetry which, [even] twentyfive [sic] years ago,
60 S. Ali
would have been taken as utopic’.28 His abundantly rich oeuvre, therefore, has
immense potential for making important contributions to educational, diplomatic,
and policy initiatives that seek to secure liberation and peace for all.29 Islamic and
inter-faith educational interventions aimed at prejudice reduction and promotion of
peace, coexistence, and social justice have a lot to gain from Iqbal’s sophisticated
and invigorating thought. In this regard, development of study materials and coun-
selling manuals can synergize his ideas with cognate master concepts from the
fields of peace and liberation psychology. For instance, seminal works by Albert
Bandura (1986, 1992, 1995) on self-efficacy and collective efficacy can be utilized
for generating frameworks that can productively assimilate and deploy Iqbal’s ideas
on self-realization and communal harmony. Education holds the key for Iqbal and is
the first and most crucial step for nurturing beliefs and values that can humanize
young minds and instil in them a yearning for peace, justice, and liberty. In his 1st
January 1938 New Year message prepared for broadcast on the All-India Radio,
wherein he addressed the people of India for the last time, Iqbal took stalk of the
agonizing miseries that had engulfed humanity across the world and made this
impassioned call (Iqbal, 2015: 299):
The world’s thinkers are stricken dumb. Is this going to [be] the end of all this progress and
evolution of civilisation, they ask, that men should destroy one another in mutual hatred and
make human habitation impossible on this earth? Remember, man can be maintained on
this earth only by honouring mankind, and this world will remain a battle ground of fero-
cious beasts of prey unless and until the educational forces of the whole world are directed
to inculcating in man respect for mankind.
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28
Schimmel (2018: xi–xii) refers to how in his epic poetic work in Persian, Javidnāma, Iqbal had
imaginatively anticipated future developments such as the use of solar energy, dangers of environ-
mental pollution and advocacy of the test-tube baby.
29
Initiatives of the kind taken at the diplomatic and policy levels by the United Nations, in order to
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62 S. Ali
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Sohaib Ali is a doctoral candidate in International Relations and an Elsa-Neumann Scholar at

Freie Universität, Berlin. He has an MSc in Social Science Research Methods (substantive focus:
Globalization and Counter-Radicalization) from Middlesex University, London, and an MA in
International Relations from the University of Punjab, Lahore. He is an Affiliated Researcher at the
Leibniz Center for Modern Oriental Studies, Berlin (ZMO) and a faculty member (on leave) at the
Department of Political Science and International Relations, University of Management and
Technology, Lahore.
Part II
Transformational Resistance to Undo
Oppression
The Liberatory Effects of Indigenous
Ceremonies in the Aftermath of Mass
Trauma
Merose Hwang
Abbreviations
DMZ demilitarized zone

Mt. Halla Halla Mountain
38th Parallel Global latitudinal 38° N used to divide northern and southern Korea
GI originally abbreviated to mean “government issue,” but used collo-
quially to mean U.S. military personnel.
USO United Service Organization that provides entertainment, social
facilities, and other programs for the U.S. Armed Forces.
NPO non-profit organization
GNP gross national product
BIPOC Black, Indigenous, People of Color
Introduction
Recent accusations that China caused the COVID pandemic and military threats to
thwart Russia’s advances into the Ukraine may spark unsettling memories of a Cold
War era gone by. Those historical reminders fail to consider a Cold War that never
ended for some people. My family and thousands of others like us fled from South
Korea to escape the dangers of the Cold War. This chapter attempts to trace my deep
connection with Cold War-induced displacement and my people’s settler history to
Turtle Island.1 We recognize that our homeland is occupied by a foreign military
that maintains a demilitarized zone (DMZ), making our homeland the last-standing
1
Funding for this research was generously provided by the Korea Foundation: KF Ref.:
1022000-003867.
M. Hwang (*)
History Department, Hiram College, Hiram, OH, USA
e-mail: hwangm@hiram.edu

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-41965-2_4
66 M. Hwang
Cold War divided territory in the world. Some 100,000 Korean-Americans are
among the 10,000,000 families that were torn apart, and they continue to wonder if
they will ever see their family members again (Lee & Lee, 2020).
One might make sense of the Korean anomaly by arguing a longue durée of
colonialism among the newly industrialized Global North or they might conclude
that security by proxy makes decolonization and national sovereignty impossible.
Such projections do little to help those of us who have been and continue to be trau-
matized by American globalization. The generations-long threat of a North Korean
invasion has retarded recognition and reconciliation of atrocities committed in the
name of protecting South Koreans from communist takeover. The unending Korean
War has caused survivors in South Korea to arrange private ceremonies and unoffi-
cial memorials and whisper stories of how their ancestors were murdered by neigh-
bors, the metropolitan military, or under US protection. In their clandestine spiritual
spaces, restless spirits of state-induced, mass-murdered individuals mingle with the
living and draw them into historically capsulated moments of the most unrestrained
violence and injustice.
When the state is responsible for atrocities, such histories take a long time to
make their way into textbooks (if they ever do). Governments mask ugly truths by
treating truth-tellers as terrorists. This chapter focuses on rituals that commemorate
the truth of anti-communist purge of Cheju Island from 1947 to 1954 (Jeju 4.3
Peace Foundation, 2014, 451). In the summer of 1945, as the Second World War
drew to a close, the USA severed the Korean peninsula in half, and a new national
government marched lock step with the USA to take care of the “communist” prob-
lem in the southern part of the peninsula. From 1945 through the Korean War
(1950–1953) and into the 1980s, the South Korean government pinpointed dozens
of “red” hotspots throughout the country. Generations of people were interrogated,
tortured, imprisoned, or vanished. Countless numbers of armed guerillas, political
protestors, school students, housewives, and young children were massacred in a
mission to wipe South Korea clean of “reds.” Some people were captured and repro-
grammed only to be surveilled, blacklisted from employment, and their children
rejected from schools (Kim, 2005).
This southernmost island of South Korea had a long history of residing on the
political margins of the mainland. During the Japanese colonial era (1910–1945),
the island was fortified with three airbases. Then, under the US military administra-
tion, the island was labeled a “red island,” causing mainland administrators to shift
from plans for naval fortification to population extermination. Although the clan-
destine nature of the killings makes it impossible to know the exact numbers, the
most commonly used figures are that some 30,000 or 10% of the island’s population
were killed in what has been obscurely named the “April Third Incident” (Jeju 4.3
Peace Foundation, 2014). Public displays of loss and grief marked surviving family
members as potential terrorists. South Koreans were trained to interrogate their
neighbors for potential communist spies, and anyone who had a purged family
member was wise to erase any such association. They waited until they could
secretly mourn the murder of their ancestors. Sometimes trusted ritual specialists
helped to reunite the “restless spirits” of the massacred with their neighbors and
The Liberatory Effects of Indigenous Ceremonies in the Aftermath of Mass Trauma 67
loved ones, pulling survivors into historically capsulated moments that detailed
their ancestors’ violent deaths.
In the first few decades following this massacre, as people began returning and
rebuilding their villages (just as they were also doing across the mainland), artifacts
of scorched earth, nightmares of mutinied kin, and guilty reflections of survival
were silenced. Military dictators ran South Korea until 1988, during which time
massacre descendants informally memorialized their wrongly killed in the safety
and privacy of their own homes. However, even under authoritarian rule, customary
laws like family registries, the transfer of property rights, and claims for genera-
tional clan identities compelled many families to locate the anniversary of their
massacred ancestors’ deaths. Remarkably, on Cheju Island, even clans that were
entirely expunged were posthumously adopted by surviving neighbors and vener-
ated as community ancestors in village attempts to not allow any soul to be
abandoned.
The first part of this chapter will consider the distinct history of Cheju Island. I
will explain the importance of spiritual ritual culture for the islanders, briefly outlin-
ing the history of anti-Cheju policies instituted during the modern era with a focus
on the regional impact of Cold War politics. I will locate my connection to South
Korean Cold War purges by considering my family’s history in a wave of push-
migration. Then, I will consider the era of post-massacre reconciliation, with an
analysis of post-trauma intervention, the potential of indigenous ceremony, ritual
archives, and liberation psychology. Finally, I will close with recent grassroots orga-
nizations and the challenges that we continue to face today.
Background on Cheju Island
Cheju Island has been known to house a high concentration of shamans stemming
from its natural environment. Some 2,000,000 years ago, Cheju Island was formed
by an underwater volcanic eruption that created an oval cone-shaped Halla Mountain
(the highest mountain in Korea) that peaks in the middle of the island and gradually
slopes down from all sides into the East Sea. The island’s earliest human inhabitants
can be traced back to the Neolithic period (10,000 years ago). These inhabitants
became the island’s progenitors, and they founded the first Kingdom of Tamna
around 57 BCE. According to a local creation story, a Grandmother Sŏlmundae cre-
ated Mount Halla and gave birth to 500 sons whose tears formed the island’s craggy
terrain (Jeju Tourism Organization). The island’s rough terrain and drastic weather
conditions may have both contributed to the island’s high concentration of shamans.
Some 18,000 gods, 391 shrines, volcanic stone walls, and basalt “grandfather”
totems line every village, protecting its inhabitants (Kister, 1997).
Islanders pray to their village gods for their well-being and safety from natural
and manufactured dangers. Simbang (Cheju shamans) conduct ancient shamanic
68 M. Hwang
rites that worship local gods on lunar calendar cycles to honor village guardians,
Grandmother Sŏlmundae, and her 500 sons who took residence in various villages
throughout the island. Simbang have been considered vital to curtailing a long his-
tory of exploitation and marginalization Cheju Islands suffered under mainland
rule. While some 3,358 islands surround the Korean Peninsula, Cheju has the mixed
fortune of being the largest and most profitable resource extraction island. Although
it sits only 83 km south of the Korean mainland, it has a distinctly subtropical climate
deeming it the “Hawai’i” of Korea. The island is conducive to the production of
barley, wheat, citrus, horses, pigs, and seafood. Female free divers (haenyŏ) are
threatened by large fisheries to harvest sea rocks for precious abalone, conch, and
other exotic marine products. Together with local shamans, haenyŏ pray for sea
guardians to show them mercy as they “work the waters” (muljil).
The islanders developed a language and ethnic identity distinct from the penin-
sula (Yang, 2020), actively trading with kingdoms as far away as the Indian subcon-
tinent and the Japanese archipelago. As surrounding kingdoms grew in strength,
they vied for control over Cheju. Even though the island witnessed major battles as
foreign troops moved to conquer the Korean mainland, for much of their history,
Cheju Islanders had minimal contact with mainlanders. Korean administrations
considered them as outsiders, referring to them as “island barbarians (島夷, Kim,
2004)” until the Koryŏ Dynasty unified the Korean peninsula in 938 CE and offi-
cially placed the island under their jurisdiction. Koryŏ renamed the island “Cheju”
(meaning the “village across the sea”) marking their new acquisition. By 1256 CE,
the island became a permanent prefecture of the peninsular state (Kim, 2004).
Cheju Island was incorporated for namesake, but islanders resented becoming a
neglected frontier and for being used as a buffer against their southern enemies
(Kim, 2004). The central government used the island as a penal territory, banishing
political dissidents to serve as Cheju Island Governors. Cheju men were pressured
to leave for the mainland due to the heavy head tax that the Chosŏn Dynasty (Korea’s
last dynasty from 1392 to 1910 CE) imposed on them. Their anti-miscegenation
laws forbade Cheju women from following their men. In turn, because these island-
bound women were not subject to the same head tax as their menfolk, female-led
cottage industries flourished and helped to establish a matrifocal economic system
on the island. The gender imbalance was exacerbated during the Japanese occupa-
tion of Korea (1910–1945) when more waves of young men migrated to the main-
land and throughout the Japanese Empire for work and education. By the end of the
Second World War, Cheju Island saw the largest concentration of men living abroad
and a higher percentage of them with foreign education than any other part of Korea.
As the male population depleted, the area came to be known as the “island of
women.” Cheju’s gynocentric historical and cultural development helped shape the
conditions of intergenerational healing, as a practice of decolonial resistance and a
means of prehistorical survival.
Cheju Massacre
Little known in world history is that the Cold War started in Korea before the Second
World War was even over. By mid-summer of 1945, the US State Department,
equipped with its atomic bombs and international energy sanctions, knew that Japan
had essentially lost the war. In early August 1945, a few days before Japan announced
its surrender, the USA preemptively acted on its “unilateral and hasty” plans to
divide the Korean nation in half. Bruce Cumings finds that, “American officials
consulted no Koreans in coming to this decision, nor did they ask the opinions of the
British or the Chinese, both of whom were to take a part in a planned trusteeship for
Korea” (1997, 187). The US forces arrived on Cheju Island on September 28, 1945,
to formally surrender the Japanese from the area, but they were “slow to extend
[their] control to the island” (Merrill, 1980, 149-50).
In the spring of 1947, as tensions rose between the USA and the Soviets; the
USA was determined to create “situations of strength” by introducing the Truman
Doctrine in March, the Marshall Plan in June, and communist “containment” in
July. The Soviets responded by announcing a Zhdanov doctrine that divided the
countries of the world into “socialist and imperialist camps” (Merrill, 1980, 155–56).
Americans have vivid memories of nuclear emergency drills in classrooms and
stored canned goods in bunkers underneath their houses and office buildings. What
they may not recall is how busy the US military was covertly building and staffing
up to 750 foreign military bases across half the countries around the world (the
actual number of bases is impossible to determine, Vine, 2020).
For Koreans, the Cold War was much more than an era of practice drills as they
were dying in unprecedented numbers under American “liberation” and protection.
The earliest moment of US anti-communist involvement may have been in South
Korea’s Autumn Uprising (also known as the October First Taegu Uprising) of
1946. Workers in the southern provinces of Taegu and Pusan started a “General
Strike” in which civilians, government officers, and 156 businesses demonstrated
against the chaotic direction their country was headed after the war. The new US
Army Military Government in Korea deemed all labor strikes illegal and stamped
out demonstrations with brutal force. 92 policemen, 163 civil workers, 116 civil-
ians, and 240 rioters were killed, and another 2609 people were arrested (Jeju 4.3
Peace Foundation, 2014, 139–150). This was also the time when the National Police
Agency began hinting that Cheju was an “island of reds” (Jeju 4.3 Peace Foundation,
2014, 150).
Following this, the Soviets proposed that all foreign troops should pull out of
Korea. Their proposal was rejected, and a new United Nations Temporary
Commission on Korea approved a US resolution to hold elections in the South.
Koreans who opposed the division of their country were aghast at the possibility of
a general election that would further divide the northern and southern parts of the
country from South Korea. Some in Cheju took up arms in their protests. Although
many different moments have been identified as starting points for the “4.3 Incident,”
70 M. Hwang
the generally agreed upon catalyst is tied to the events on the third day of April,
1948. The Jeju 4.3 Incident Investigation Report describes that moment as follows:
Around 2 a.m. on April 3, 1948, the armed uprising led by South Korea Labor Party’s Jeju
branch begun with signal fires blazing at every Oreum on the mountainside of Mt. Halla. At
dawn that day, approximately 350 armed rebels simultaneously attacked 12 of 24 provincial
police boxes. The police, Seobuk Young Men’s Association’s accommodation, and houses
of key figures affiliated with right-wing organizations including National Congress for
Promoting Independence were also targeted for attack. This action triggered the bloodshed
which lasted for six years and six months, until the Mt. Halla standstill order was lifted on
September 21, 1954 (Jeju 4.3 Peace Foundation, 2014, 211).
Some 30,000 people were killed by various state agents that included the South
Korean military, police, political organizations, and the US Military Government in
Korea. It is no exaggeration to say that every family on Cheju Island was affected
by this purge. The indiscriminate killing included eradicating children, women, and
elderly. Islanders were hunted down over a two-year span with the most intense kill-
ing happening from late 1948 to early 1949 (Jeju 4.3 Peace Foundation, 2014). State
directives stipulated that interior villages held the largest concentration of rebels,
but coastal communities were not spared. The earliest and most violent Cold War
purge happened on Cheju Island.
Islanders were massacred in “screening operations” and house searches. They
were bombed out of Mt. Halla caves and lava tubes. While some 20,000 islanders
managed to flee to Japan, most islanders who used this escape route were shot down
at sea (the number of bodies on surrounding seafloor is impossible to estimate). In
late July 2016, Seong Nae Kim (Sogang University) arranged for Woo-yong Kim, a
local political activist and son of her famous Cheju shaman friend, to give us an
April Third monuments tour. Particularly harrowing to me was what happened on
the east end of Joch’on District in a small village known as Pukch’on. On January
17, 1949, after two soldiers were killed by armed guerillas, the army massacred
around 300 unarmed, civilians in the fields, and farms around Pukch’on Elementary
School. Mr. Kim emphasized how this village was purged to the extent that it was
called a “village of no men.” The army killed women, elderly, and children without
discretion. Of all April Third massacre sites, Pukch’on suffered the highest concen-
tration of civilian killings in the shortest span of time (Figs. 1 and 2).
After 5 years of internecine, mass killings by proxy, on June 25, 1950, North
Korean tanks crossed the newly established boundary of the 38th Parallel just north
of Seoul. In response, the USA initiated a United Nations-backed “police action”
over the region. The UN forces unleashed full military strikes on the Korean
Peninsula. To give a sense of their determination to decimate the peninsula, in one
single raid over the North Korean capital of P’yŏngyang, the UN military deployed
around 1403 sorties, 10,000 liters of napalm, 62,000 rounds of low-level strafing
ammunition, and 697 tons of bombs. Americans were “frustrated” by the Korean
problem when they had just finished a war that wiped out a third of the world’s
population. A Time Magazine reporter describes American soldiers exhibiting a new
type of savagery in their killing fatigue:
Fig. 1 Children’s Gravesite (Egi mudom) in Pukch’on Village more than 20 children’s bodies lie
as they were found at this location. At least eight more children were murdered but not at this site
(July 2016)
They murder to save themselves the trouble of escorting prisoners to the rear; they murder
civilians simply to get them out of the way or to avoid the trouble of searching and cross-
examining them. And they extort information ... by means so brutal that they cannot be
described. (August 21, 1950)
Three months into this war, 97,000 tons of bombs and 7,800,000 gallons of napalm
had been dropped such that no targets remained and, as a British military publica-
tion put it, “South Korea no longer exists as a country” (Young, 2001, 113). The
UN’s scorched earth campaign was more brutal than its later involvement in
Vietnam and had a proportionally higher death count. By February 1952, one out of
every nine men, women, and children in North Korea had been killed. By the time
an armistice agreement was signed in July 1953, there were some 3,000,000 casual-
ties, over 10,000,000 mostly women and children displaced, and over 2,000,000
permanently separated families. Even though Korea was utterly devastated, the US
Congress refused to approve their pledge of $162,500,000 in relief with some con-
gressmen claiming that Americans did their job to “protect” Koreans and that some-
one else should be responsible to clean it up (Sullivan, 1952).
72 M. Hwang
Fig. 2 Pukch’on Memorial Hall’s list of victims’ names, gender, and fallen dates (July 2016)
Ceremonies, Archives, and Liberation
State-engineered atrocities take a long time to make their way into textbooks if they
ever make it at all. Ugly histories are treated as terrorist conspiracies, and witnesses
to such injustices stay quiet to protect themselves. But after a person experiences an
orgy of violence, witnesses the horrible death of their loved ones, and then manages
to narrowly escape themselves, they cannot easily off-load their survivors’ guilt. If
local communities help to bring the traumatized back to their indigenous ceremo-
nies to repatriate them with the land of the living, the traumatized may build the
strength to notice the inconsistency between their embodied experience and manu-
factured ideologies about model citizenry which can spark critical thinking
and change.
In South Korea, a National Security Act was enforced in 1948 to ensure that any
behavior or speech that criticized the government would be treated as a criminal
offense for endangering “national security” (Korean Ministry of Government
Administration, 2011). This meant that anyone who publicized wrongful actions
taken by the South Korean state or the USA would put those persons at risk of
breaking this law, silencing atrocity survivors for the sake of an amnesiac, neo-
colonial nation. A young novelist, Hyun Ki Young, began pushing against this fas-
cistic policy in 1975, when he bravely serialized a novel, Father for the East Asia
Daily newspaper. The story included psychological trauma experienced by Cheju
Islanders. Emboldened by this print, 3 years later he published another novel, titled
Sun-i samch’on (Aunt Sun-i, 1978) where the story’s protagonist (who closely
resembles the author) returns to Cheju Island, after several years of living in Seoul,
to attend the funeral of his Aunt Suni (a massacre survivor who later takes her own
life). In the story, Hyun details the massacre where the protagonist enters a heated
debate with his uncle during their family reunion:
How can you call unarmed people red guerrillas? They were refugees who, after their mid-
mountain villages were scorched, were driven out of their homes into hiding out in the
caves scattered in the shadow of Mt. Halla…Alas, it wasn’t just our village that suffered a
massacre. Ask anyone from this island that you come across. They’ll tell you that a member
of their family, or at least someone within their extended family, including first cousins,
died during the mayhem (135, 139)
Shortly after this second novel was published, Hyun was arrested and tortured in
prison for 3 days before being released on the condition that he could never write
about the massacre in any genre, on any platform ever again. At risk of threat, tor-
ture, and even death, Hyun continued writing on the massacre into the 1990s.
South Korea claimed to be a modern, secular, democratic state when, in fact, it
utilized Christian evangelical methods to justify a fascistic culture of anti-
communism (Yoon, 2017). In response, some of the poorest, most damaged com-
munities turned to their indigenous spiritual origins or religious “fundamentalism”
for assistance. Tony Ballantyne clarifies how this pattern towards fundamentalism,
“… allows those who feel economically disadvantaged, oppressed or failed by the
state, or who hold beliefs that are at odds with those of the political or economic
74 M. Hwang
elite to shore up their distinctive identity or community through a turn to the past”
(2022, 185).
Even when survivors move away, their ghosts haunt them, motivating people like
Hyun Ki Young to publicize their stories. He recalls the power of wrongfully killed
ancestors:
All [survivors] wanted was a dignified public joint memorial service under a monument to
pacify the spirits of those unjustifiably killed. They were afraid that those grieving spirits,
imprisoned in the dark corners of their hearts and never seeing the light of day, might take
their revenge. (141)
In the words of Seong-nae Kim, “In the shamanic rituals of Cheju Island, the phe-
nomenon of spirit possession is an opportunity for the spirit of the dead to borrow
the body of the shaman to begin speaking spontaneously” (Kim, 2013, 225).
Aggrieved ancestors reunite with and talk to their survivors via shamanic rituals,
helping to remind their survivors of their shared history and to attend to unfinished
business. Ghostly narratives or yŏnggye ullim (Cheju term for “lamentations of the
dead”), which are conveyed while the shaman is possessed by the ghost, act in con-
cert with survivor testimonies to create a rich, detailed, shared history (Kim, 2000).
Ancestral ghosts, their survivors, and ritual specialists work to collaborate and cor-
roborate their stories, making those histories real. In Cheju, these are recorded as
sikketchip (memorial ceremony transcripts) that then becomes testimony, trans-
forming the ephemeral, spiritual interaction into public documentation.
On the other side of the world, homecoming through spiritual conversations pro-
pels impossible stories to cross vast oceans, making them real to faraway people.
Toyin Falola’s concept of “ritual archives” helps me understand the value of indig-
enous knowledge sources, particularly for their post-traumatic liberatory potential.
For Falola, ritual archives compile endless mnemonic moments, sites, artifacts, etc.
alongside archival material (prioritized by western institutions) to help us appreci-
ate, in Falola’s case, African ways of knowing. Ritual archives “contain shelves on
sacrifices and shrines, names, places, incantations, invocations, and the entire cos-
mos of all the deities and their living subjects among human and nonhuman spe-
cies” for better “preservation and valuation” than what can be done when relying
exclusively on methods and materials used by the western academy (Rivera, 2020,
473). Edil Torres Rivera reinforces the idea that social reality is not dualistic but is
multiple, fluid, intersectional, and historical (43):
[Historical] problematization places emphasis on what is recovered from the historical
memory, an understanding that is beyond what is be[sic] imposed by the ideology (or deide-
ologized) of present circumstances; it focuses on the knowledge of people’s strengths
related to a particular issue that a group of oppressed individuals are experiencing in a
specific context or circumstance. (46)
The indigenous ceremony combines the past with the present and future in a time-
space continuum. We can learn from the Métis First Nation, their acute understand-
ing, and investments into their ancestral stories (Iseke, 2013) as a source of survival.
The ceremony meditates on what existed before, during, and after the trauma in
regenerative and expansive ways. What healing ceremonies generate speak truth to
power by creating, storing, and retrieving historical records to validate what colo-
nial institutions try but fail to eliminate. In this way, indigenous ceremony acts as a
force of liberation.
The process of storytelling ensures continual discovery and actions driven by
“truth.” The collective nature of rediscovering historical memory transforms and
empowers individuals to develop new forms of social identity. Oh Chang-eun cul-
turally contextualizes Aunt Sun-I by highlighting scenes of storytelling as “feasts”
that are both communal and restorative. Voices sing creation stories, scold family
members, sob over misfortune, recite poetry, drop proverbs, speak in riddles, make
roasting jokes to identify their people, and collectively release backlogged resent-
ment (Korean term for this ritualized catharsis is han puri). The feast of stories is a
sort of homecoming because they enable the traumatized to face what they have
been avoiding, to “rediscover and embrace” their pasts, alleviate homesickness by
becoming the words of their ancestors (Oh, 2013, 167–170).
Techniques for Survival and Settler Journeys
I would further argue that a traumatized community may return to fundamental

ceremonies as an appeal to the community’s ancient ancestors, the original guard-
ians of the land, to help guide them to their pre-colonial futures. When Americans
think of indigenous healing practices, Medicine Lodges used by First Nations com-
munities across Turtle Island may come to mind. Here, I propose that we pay special
attention to those types of indigenous ceremonies around the world and how we can
speak to one another about our shared, sacred responsibility to decolonize our
homelands. Cheju Islanders cannot forget the purge when they exist on a land lit-
tered with surfeit mass graves. Dead bodies, bone mounds, reburials, and memorials
act as symbols that connect and contradict life and death, the psychological, spiri-
tual, and material, the individual, society, and state (Verdery, 1999). According to
my people’s beliefs, the spirit of a person who has died an “unnatural” death is
condemned to wander the world of the living, forcing their traumas onto their survi-
vors, neighbors, and descendants through dreams until that community finds a ritual
specialist who can intervene.
Survivors who move their families and their traumas across larger seas have a
longer healing journey as Grace Cho observes in her book, Haunting the Korean
diaspora (2008). We, of the Korean-American diaspora, inherit ghosts through our
parents or grandparents’ denial, illness, and domestic abuse. Our elders’ maladjust-
ment, our racialized self-loathing, and homelessness leave us with a whitewashed
American story. Our inability to see ourselves or our indigenous, colored brothers
and sisters within that colonialist story makes it difficult for us to recognize or
accept our settler healing journeys and suspends us in a fictitious, hyphenated,
non-place.
76 M. Hwang
Mired in the story of American globalization is my position as a Korean descen-

dant, recognizing my family’s strategies for survival and shared war refugeeism to
Turtle Island. Survivors from Cheju Island and around the Korean mainland used
their indigenous knowledge to restore life from a poisoned earth. Cheju Islanders
navigated an expansive network of subterranean volcanic lava tubes and caves that
stretched throughout the mountainous regions of the island. While some cave dwell-
ers were bombed out, many survived by storing native crops (like jisŭl, a Cheju
potato) underground for months at a time (O, 2012). Escapees may have made their
way to unknown islands, living off of kelp and other sea products, enroute to Japan.
Our landbound grandmothers became expert scavengers, cajoling each other on
their knowledge of edible pyrophytes, when and how to harvest wild vegetables,
how to marinate or cook the poison out of plants, and new inventions to safely pre-
serve food underground.
Destitution made widowed women and girls in Korea especially vulnerable to
American colonial penetration. In 1953, a black market and prostitution industry
ballooned to service 326,863 American overseas personnel (Kane, 2006). Since the
USA began their occupation, over 1,000,000 women, coming from the poorest sec-
tors of society, lined up to work in and around a new sex industry for American
servicemen in camp towns around the country. American racist, misogynist, and
imperialist dominance over South Korea were exemplified “between South Korean
camp town women workers and the U.S. servicemen” (Lee, 2010, 127). Before a
Status of Forces Agreement went into effect in 1966, Americans “enjoyed virtual
extraterritorial immunity” in these camp towns (and continue to leverage the unequal
terms of this agreement. Lee, 2010, 128). Perhaps worse of all is that war-related
crimes against women and children continue to be hidden and uninvestigated due to
the shameful light they may cast on surviving families.
By the mid-twentieth century, the USA was determined to become the world’s
protector through global economic, political, and cultural integration (Klein, 2003).
They opened US immigration to people from war-torn countries in their visions for
an American hegemony. With a War Brides Act of 1945, women and children under
national-origin quotas were allowed to immigrate to the USA (Yuh, 2002). On
November 5, 1951, LIFE Magazine published a story titled, “A War Bride Named
‘Blue’ Comes Home” (Cosgrove, 2014). Blue became the first Korean American
War Bride, and shortly thereafter, another 6000 Korean women entered the USA
with their GI husbands. The USA removed its national-origin quotas and replaced it
with an Immigration and Nationality Act in 1965. From then until 1980, over
100,000 Korean military brides came to the USA, and Korean migration to this
country increased by 2500% (O’Connor & Batalova, 2019).
My family was a part of America’s cultural integration project. My father spoke
English well enough and enjoyed American popular music so that he was con-
scripted to work for an American radio program. His American buddies had connec-
tions to get father’s younger sister (our Little Auntie), a job working for the USO (an
American NPO that provides entertainment for US Armed Forces). That’s how
Little Auntie met a white, naval lawyer from California. Once they married, Little
Auntie moved to the Presidio Army Base in San Francisco, where she sponsored our
grandmother and most of her siblings, including my father to move to the

USA. American journalists detailed these early migrants’ “happy” adjustments,
omitting from their American Dreams the coercive, sexual, transactional conditions
of their wartime migration. Koreans had a harder time forgetting how Korean
women and American soldiers came together, cursing yanggongju (literally trans-
lates as “Western princess” but means “Yankee whore” or “American slut,” Cho,
2008, 310) to any Korean woman who coupled with a visibly foreign man. Spectral
figures like our Little Auntie, who became the first American sponsors for most
Korean-American families, were pressured to bury the gendered violence and
unequal partnerships of war.
Mixed-race babies were becoming a problem around the US camp towns
(Doolan, 2021). The USA attempted to curtail this problem with a new law that
enabled the first mass wave of international, interracial adoption of mixed-race GI
babies. The law was amended to include orphaned children. Then, in 1982, the US
Congress enacted an “Amerasian Immigration Act” that gave special alien status to
war babies “born in Korea, Kampuchea, Laos, Thailand, or Vietnam after December
31, 1950, and before October 22, 1982” to American fathers (USCIS). They eventu-
ally brought 200,000 Korean orphans to the USA and had them “become so
Americanized that they would disappear into the fabric of society without a sign of
ever having been different” (Levine, 2000). To assimilate them as quickly as possi-
ble, Korean babies were assigned to white parents, in remote, rural, white towns,
baptized, given American names, trained to thank their veterans, and made to ignore
signs of difference or trauma. Asians who could not pass as white in the USA during
the Vietnam War learned to ignore our new nicknames as “Chink,” “Jap,” or “Gook”
(Cho, 2008). We were trained to be grateful to white people as Americans covered
up their own Korean War and Vietnam War traumas by helping Asians become
“model minorities” (Deo et al., 2008, 146).
Whether they were brides or orphans, these first-generation settlers had bodies
that were permanently transformed from war, and their mutations have been passed
down. From my settler elders, I glimpsed stories of biological trauma: a mute mater-
nal grandmother, a paraplegic aunt, an infertile aunt, a short-heighted second-
cousin, countless stillborn, orphaned, and adopted cousins. My own father died
prematurely from mysterious causes a few years after migrating to the USA. Among
his survivors and descendants, Little Auntie, my mother, maternal uncle, paternal
cousin, natal brother, and two nephews all live with various forms and levels of
mental illness. Our tree may be what a diasporic war genealogy looks like.
Settler families believed that an American Dream was attainable and that those
who fled were better off than those they left behind. In 1960, South Korea remained
one of the poorest countries in the world with only 80 US dollars per capital GNP
and 25,000,000 people living in about 100,000 square kilometers of land (Kwon,
n.d.). People made a mass exodus from the countryside, relocating in Korea’s major
cities as President Park Chung-hee (term 1961–1979) focused on a campaign for
rapid industrialization and export-led economy. But recovery was hindered by the
division of the country (with most of mineral and energy resources situated in the
new northern enemy territory), violent coup d’états, US-friendly military
78 M. Hwang
dictatorships, and martial laws that kept South Korea suspended in a state of emer-
gency. In 1977, Washington Post noted that “while [South] Korea has gleaming new
factories and a growing middle class, it remains a land of miserable poverty”
(Chapman, 1977).
Just as colonizers massacred and displaced First Nations Peoples, they also
veiled the conditions under which they imported the Global South, pulled yellow
and brown people out of their homelands into an amnesiac America (Wolfe, 1999).
The USA created a type of universal mass culture in which all countries should
emulate their values. The historical distortions exacerbated by television programs
like M*A*S*H and Vietnam War films like Apocalypse Now (1979) and Full Metal
Jacket (1987) obfuscated and even denied the inhumane treatment of various Asian
communities by the US military (Dittmar & Michaud, 2000). Across the Pacific,
people also learned about the USA through American military radio programs like
“The Voice of Free Korea” (1953–1968). In these ways, those who stayed back in
Korea to rebuild their war-torn homes and those of us who left began to overlap in
our experiences of an omnipotent America and began to believe that we could ben-
efit from our white proximity if we could just forget the war, our ancestors, and
our bodies.
The power of the oppressed against those odds lie in our ability to heal by
remembering our shared histories. Katherine Verdery argues that “dead body poli-
tics… have the important effect of inserting such reevaluation directly into the lives
of persons, families, and small groups, through visceral processes of reburial and
grieving or even vengeance” (1999, 20). Recovering hidden stories includes impor-
tant “variables such as pride, values, fears, and beliefs” to provide “a path to free-
dom and healing” (Rivera, 2020, 45). In this way, the virtues of the oppressed people
to involve their ghosts, ancestors, intergenerational tools, and energy may be indis-
pensable for liberation. Their restored knowledge and critical consciousness create
movement and action from what is real to what is possible (45–46).
Mass Atrocity Prevention and Ongoing Challenges
Due to the hard work of many local and international activists, Cheju Island has
been recognized as a politically neutral territory. On January 27, 2005, the South
Korean government designated it as the “Island of World Peace” after it was used to
host a series of unprecedented, high-level summits with the former Soviet Union
and the People’s Republic of China. In turn, Seoul declared that they would work
towards recognizing islanders’ demands for reconciliation and human rights viola-
tions stemming from the “April Third Incident” (Chin, 2014).
Then in 2007, the USA initiated an Asia Pivot strategy by asking South Korea to
allow them to build a joint civilian-military complex port in order for the USA to
contain China’s activity in the region. Although they claimed that civilian cruise
ships could also dock there, its primary function was to house a THAAD missile
defense system, up to 20 nuclear-powered aircraft carriers, destroyers, and subma-

rines, making this the USA’s largest, most expensive base in the Pacific (1.4 billion
US dollars). The South Korean government ignored the overwhelming local opposi-
tion and agreed to America’s proposal.
In June 2011, protesters from around the world gathered in Cheju to stage a sit-in
at the gate of the proposed construction site, delaying construction for several
months. Unfortunately, in the following year, the South Korean Supreme Court
upheld the base’s construction (Rabinroff & Yoo, 2012). Activists remained on the
streets, pleading the international community to continue helping them prevent
another massacre from happening. Meanwhile, Samsung and Daelim corporations
ignored international environmental pleas, destroying coral, sea life, and local fish-
ing industries on the southern tip of the island to make way for 490,000 square
meters of land needed for the base construction. Through it all, activists gathered in
Kangjŏng Village and managed to halt construction up to seven times (Fig. 3).
They also erected a youth Peace Center, library, café, and artists’ center in
Kangjŏng. They run online newsfeeds like Save Jeju Now to monitor and keep the
international community abreast of developments in the area. They have solicited
the International Union for Conservation of Nature and Amnesty International to
join their cause.
Fig. 3 Peace protest messages in front of Kangjŏng naval base (July 2016)
80 M. Hwang
On April 3, 2015, North Korea commemorated the 67th anniversary of the Cheju
April Third Massacre, declaring that the Kangjŏng project was proof that Cheju
Islanders were still under imperial rule (Shim, 2015). When I visited Kangjŏng
Village in the summer of 2016, just after the port was completed and started its
operations, I was relieved to see international peace activists still working at the site
although they were in danger of being deported. Even though the USA subverted
Korea’s dreams of decolonization and peace, the international community must
continue to help identify the palimpsests of Cold War colonization and support
indigenous peoples to be at the center of peace-making conversations.
This ontological intervention against the coloniality of knowledge makes indig-
enous communities less susceptible to the intentional, violent destruction of archives
because indigenous mnemonic devices are intended for the purpose of survival.
Such power is pivotal in attaining wellness, promoting liberation, and resisting
oppression. Torres Rivera argues that power, wellness, and liberation are never
political or psychological; they are always both (Rivera, 2020). Armed with this
power, the traumatized community may be able to establish public forms of recon-
ciliation, like formal reburials, memorials, museums, and education campaigns.
Our motherland communities should support us in our colonial settler struggles.
The Stop Asian-American and Pacific Islander Hate organization recorded nearly
3800 hate incidents in the USA since March 2020 (Hwang & Salazar Parrenas,
2021). Asian women continue to be murdered in the USA. On March 16, 2021, six
Asian-American women were killed alongside two others in Atlanta, Georgia, by a
self-proclaimed, sex-addicted, white man who murdered them in his attempt to
“eliminate the temptation” of Asian women. These women were murdered
14 months after the World Health Organization announced COVID-19 a global pan-
demic when an American President was spewing anti-Asian rhetoric like “Kung
Flu” and “China virus.” When murder is the third leading cause for death among
First Nations Women, we must notice such racist gynecide in North America as
systemic (Native Hope).
In these victims, I see our Little Auntie, mother, and grandmother. Our precari-
ous existence in the USA is tied to a growing popularity of androcentric communi-
ties like “incels” that glorify violence against women of color and that toxify
white masculinity. Ann McGinley finds that “many policymakers have omitted
gender from hate crime legislation, an omission that suggests that women’s lives
are not as valuable as men’s” (2022, 179). My Korean settler sisters and I are com-
plicit in making our BIPOC sisters invisible. We must advocate for our brown
brothers and sisters who are precariously employed, and we must think more
deeply about how to leverage our own “light” privilege in the struggle. Finally, as
citizens of a colonialist superpower, we must be cognizant of the limits and pos-
sibilities of Global South networks; explore our discrete but interlinked cultures
and histories; urge for rapprochement strategies with “enemy” nations like North
Korea, China, Russia, Iran, Palestine, etc.; and work to honor indigenous land
sovereignty worldwide.
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Activism Websites
http://savejejunow.org
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https://sacrednaturalsites.org/
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Merose Hwang is an Associate Professor of History at Hiram College in Ohio, USA. They have
held positions as a research fellow at the Institute for Korean Studies, Yonsei University and
Visiting Scholar at the Institute for the Study of Religion, Sogang University, South Korea. They
are a recipient of the Kathryn W. Davis Fellowship for Peace, three-time recipient of the National
Endowment for the Humanities Summer Institute grant, and three-time recipient of Korea
Foundation research grant. Their interests are in modern and contemporary East Asian social,
cultural, and gender history, with particular interest in Cold War trauma narratives.
What Do We Resist When We Resist?
Peasants’ Land Rights Movement
and the Emergence of New Social Life
in Pakistani Punjab
Muhammad Qasim
We were born in chains, and we have to set ourselves free.

Abdullah, a peasant activist
Abbreviations
OMFs Okara Military Farms

AMP Anjumen Muzareena Punjab (Tenants’ Association of Punjab)
GHQ General Headquarters Pakistan Military
MFA Military Farms Authorities
RMF Renala Military Farms
Introduction
The questions that have dominated the fields of agrarian studies, resistance, and
social movements in the twentieth century revolve around the peasants’ motivations
for resistance and their methods of resistance. James C. Scott referred to the twen-
tieth century as the era of peasants’ revolutions (Scott, 1977), highlighting the sig-
nificance of these struggles. In the twenty-first century, the peasants’ struggles have
gained renewed momentum in the Global South due to increased instances of global
land-grabbing by states and corporations in the context of agricultural land’s neolib-
eralization (Borras Jr & Franco, 2012, 2013; Edelman et al., 2013; Zoomers, 2010;
Adnan, 2013).
The debates within the field of peasants’ resistance studies often focus on theo-
rizing which class of peasantry (landless or middle-class) exhibits a greater
M. Qasim (*)
The Department of Political Science and International Relations,
The University of Management and Technology, Lahore, Pakistan

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-41965-2_5
86 M. Qasim
tendency towards revolution (Alavi, 1965; Skocpol, 1982). Scholars examine

whether peasants act as rational actors (Popkin, 1980) or if their worldviews are
shaped by the logic of moral economies (Scott, 1977, 1985). There are discussions
on whether peasants are nonpolitical, reactionary, and archaic communities
(Hobsbawm, 1973) or if they are inherently political and revolutionary (Guha, 1983;
Scott, 1977). Furthermore, the dominant forms of peasants’ resistance are explored,
distinguishing between everyday/hidden resistance and organized/open resistance
(Scott, 1986; Adnan, 2007). The transformation of everyday acts of resistance into
organized forms of resistance is another area of investigation (Adnan, 2007).
Going beyond the conventional understanding and debates in both academic lit-
erature and popular activists’ perspectives on peasants’ resistance, this chapter aims
to explore the objectives of rural communities in their land rights movement. How
can we interpret the peasants’ infamous chant of “ownership or death”? Does it
merely refer to the ownership of agricultural land, or does it encompass something
more profound? Are the peasants willing to choose death solely due to the denial of
agricultural land, or is it a deeper denial for which they are prepared to sacrifice
their lives? The central argument of this chapter is that the peasants’ struggles
regarding agricultural land extend beyond resisting perceived eviction attempts.
Instead, these struggles aim to achieve or safeguard the ownership of the peasants’
collective social life within their village community. This fundamental aspect of the
peasants’ land rights movement is often overlooked or superficially examined in the
literature on peasants’ resistance.
As Ferguson (2013) argues, the land question is often reduced to an agrarian
question in the literature, disregarding the multifaceted role that land plays in the
social fabric of a village community. Agricultural usage of land is just one aspect
among many. Therefore, instead of focusing solely on the forms of peasants’ resis-
tance, whether they are open/organized or everyday/hidden, this research delves
into the content of the peasants’ resistance. By examining the political thought and
actions of villagers and exploring the relationship between political life in rural
communities and the larger political systems they are part of, we can gain a more
comprehensive understanding of peasants’ politics and resistance (Kerkvliet &
Benedict, 2013).
Based on 4 months of ethnographic fieldwork and my personal involvement in
political activism and solidarity with the peasants’ resistance, this chapter examines
the resistance of peasants in the villages of Okara district in Pakistani Punjab. These
peasants raised the slogan “Ownership or Death” (Malki ya Mout) in opposition to
military landlordism. It is a unique form of landlordism (Sajjad, 2006) and refers to
the control of agricultural land in Okara villages by the Pakistani military under the
Okara Military Farms authority (OMFs). Additionally, these villages are situated on
land originally developed as part of the British canal colonies project, a massive
infrastructural project (Rizvi, 2019; Ali, 1988) that resulted in significant social
engineering of Punjabi society (Ali, 1988) and the consolidation of military inter-
vention in postcolonial Pakistan’s politics, economics, and society (Yong, 2005;
Alavi, 1973).
What Do We Resist When We Resist? Peasants’ Land Rights Movement… 87
In Okara villages, military-landlordism is extended beyond the appropriation of

the villages’ economy through control of agricultural land; it also encompassed the
control of villagers’ social life. Therefore, the peasants’ resistance is not solely
focused on the ownership of agricultural land but also on the collective ownership
of their social life. These dimensions of peasants’ domination and struggle have
received limited exploration and discussion in the existing literature on the peas-
ants’ resistance, which I aim to explore in detail.
The struggles of the peasantry to reclaim ownership of their collective social life,
rooted in the colonial formation of their villages and the subjugation of their social
existence under the neocolonial state of Pakistan, can be better understood through
the framework of the four principles of liberation psychology: “recovering histori-
cal memory,” which emphasizes understanding the true history of oppression based
on lived experiences and cultural heritage; “deideologizing everyday experiences,”
where oppressed people employ critical consciousness to challenge imposed reali-
ties; “virtues of the people,” referring to the ability of oppressed people to sacrifice
for the collective good and their belief in the capacity to change the world; and
“praxis,” which involves collective action by oppressed people to liberate their colo-
nized social existence (Comas-Diaz & Rivera, 2020, pp. 41–47)
The peasants of Okara district, under their collective organization known as
Anjumen Muzareena Punjab (AMP), have successfully resisted military eviction
attempts and a unilaterally introduced change in the land tenure agreement from
Batiee (sharecropping system) to Patadari (rent-in-cash system) since 2000.
Interestingly, the peasants’ resistance erupted in post-colonial Pakistan in response
to military-landlordism in the villages following the military coup by Pervez
Musharraf in 1999. This coup toppled the democratically elected Federal
Government of Pakistan Muslim League without encountering any resistance
(Rizvi, 2019).1 Motivated by the principles of neoliberal economic reforms, the
military regime made an effort to replace the long-standing sharecropping system
(Rizvi, 2017, 2019) with a new rent-in-cash system as a means to enhance land
revenue. However, the peasants regarded this new system with great suspicion, as it
proposed to alter their status from permanent tenants, who enjoyed protection from
eviction, to tenants at will, who could be expelled from the land at any time. The
military’s attempt to impose the rent-in-cash system sparked the peasants’ resis-
tance at OMFs. Not only did the peasants reject the newly imposed rent-in-cash
system, but they also refused to cultivate the land under the century-old sharecrop-
ping system.
1
For Rizvi (2019), the emergence of the peasants’ movement in Okara, Punjab, immediately fol-
lowing the military coup in 1999 raises intriguing questions regarding the state-society relations in
Pakistan. It is perplexing how the peasants managed to resist and construct a potent counterhege-
monic discourse against the Pakistani military, an immensely powerful institution with Punjab as
its main spatial ideological stronghold. The paradox lies in the fact that while the military exhibited
enough power to overthrow the democratically elected government without encountering any
opposition, it failed to suppress the resistance put forth by the peasants.
88 M. Qasim
The peasants successfully asserted their complete ownership of the land. While
both academic scholarship and the understanding of popular activists view this as
the primary goal and achievement of the peasants’ resistance, this chapter contends
that their resistance and accomplishments extend beyond mere land ownership and
the refusal to pay rent to landlords. Under the banner of their political organization,
Anjuman Muzareen Punjab, the peasants’ political resistance against the ownership
of agricultural land has fostered a culture of resistance that has emancipated the
peasants’ social lives from the grips of military landlordism. Consequently, it sug-
gests that existing scholarship on this movement has overlooked and failed to con-
sider the oppressed social conditions experienced by the peasants prior to the
emergence of their movement.
In his work on AMP, Mubashir Rizvi (2017, 2019) delves into the question of
how tenants framed their struggle for land rights against the Pakistani military.
According to Rizvi, the tenants achieved success in resisting the powerful military
institution of the Pakistani state by invoking the logic of land rights grounded in the
moral economy of subsistence. Rizvi’s framework for comprehending the peasants’
land rights struggles is centered around the concept of the moral economy. Shozab
Raza (2020) studied AMP struggles in the context of global land-grabbing literature
and mafia bosses of South Asia. He explores the afterlife of the AMP movement and
shows that land-grabbing attempts from the superordinate entities in the form of
state and corporation do not only give birth to accumulation from above but also
accumulation from below. As many leaders of AMP garnered immense economic
and social capital through AMP struggles owing to their leadership roles in the peas-
ants’ organization. The top-tier leadership of AMP acts now both like peasants’
militant and mafia bosses. Asim Sajjad (2006), in his study of AMP, makes a point
that the peasants’ struggle over land rights is a struggle for their livelihood and cul-
ture, and the peasants’ access to the land is a condition of their “very existence
itself.” Sajjad did not explore this dimension of the struggle further and reverted to
the usual debates of the scholarships on the peasants, whether peasants’ class has
consciousness, whether are they revolutionary, how peasantry is internally differen-
tiated, and how the AMP tenants are different from the typical peasantry discussed
in the Marxists literature because AMP tenants are the tenants of a state institution.
All three studies on AMP are situated on the three different scholarly traditions of
peasants’ studies: the moral economy approach, global land-grabbing literature, and
Marxist scholarship. All three studies though have very different focuses and points
of contentions nevertheless have one fundamental agreement that the peasants’
resistance and struggles are for the ownership of their agricultural land. Therefore,
these studies fail to talk about those acts of resistance of AMP struggles that are
aimed at decolonizing the peasants’ social life.
In contrast to the above studies, through the abovementioned framework of
liberation psychology, this chapter explains that both before and after the eruption
of peasants’ resistance against military landlordism, the nature of social and
political life in the peasants’ villages is very different from the social lives of other
villages of Punjab. Peasants’ social life under the military-landlordism was a life
that was colonized. There was social and cultural apartheid in practice in the peas-
ants’ villages. Similarly, the social life of the peasants after the emergence of their
successful resistance is very distinct compared to other villages of Punjab that never
lived under military landlordism. The social life after the peasants’ movement in the
villages is politically charged and socially self-engineered. The peasants’ culture of
resistance, which this chapter would talk about at length in the coming sections,
consists of a repertoire of radical actions which ranges from typical non/confronta-
tional acts such as roadblocks, sit-ins, rallies, and skirmishes with law enforcement
authorities and symbolic acts of resistance such as poetry, jokes, slogans, slang,
anecdotes of resistance and stories of suffering and subjugation, etc. and social-
ontological acts of resistance that is taking charge of their own collective social life
by building paved houses, mosques, graveyard, schools, playground, cultivating,
and distributing the agricultural land, destroying the symbols and practices of domi-
nation. This paper tries to explore these novel forms of the social lives of the vil-
lages with the peasants’ culture of resistance to draw insights on how peace is
possible in the Global South that is delinked from its colonial past and neocolonial
present alike.
Barbalet contends relations of power, in particular, can be completely compre-
hended only when the social context is specified. The significance of the acts of
resistance can only be understood when the social characteristics and social location
of the agents are fully evident in the power relations (Barbalet 1985). The struggle
of AMP if studied in an accurate historical and political context would shed light on
aspects of domination (colonized social life) and resistance (culture of resistance
that aims to liberate the social life) that have evaded the scholarly attention of the
researchers in the field. To understand the peasants’ struggle, this ethnographic
study aims to explore British colonialism’s violent state-making processes and their
continuation and sustenance in post-colonial Pakistan, and the new possibilities of
liberated and decolonial social life in which the people are the active collective
agents to reengineer their social life form a humanist perspective. The research will
delve into the historical context by drawing upon secondary literature, conducting
in-depth interviews with peasants, and gathering data through participant observa-
tion and my own political activism within the movement. The following key histori-
cal aspects will be encompassed:
• Construction of canal networks in eastern Punjab by British colonialism
• The settlement of the peasants’ villages on canal colonies land, resultant social
engineering of Punjabi society under the British colonialism
• Consolidation of state landlordism and the military power in postcolonial
Pakistan
90 M. Qasim
Within this contextual framework, the study will discuss the peasants’ culture of
resistance, contributing to the exploration of a grassroots perspective on the concept
of peace.
Colonization of Peasants’ Social Life
Recovering Historical Memory
The history of the peasants’ movement is intertwined with the construction of canal
networks by the British Raj during the early twentieth century. The establishment of
canal colonies in Western Punjab, initiated in 1885 and completed in 1913, trig-
gered significant migration from the eastern part of the province and brought about
substantial economic development in the region. However, the process of land dis-
tribution among Punjabis was not driven by economic development considerations;
instead, it favored feudal lords and tribal leaders who held political and social con-
trol over their respective areas. These individuals were recognized as the “martial
races” of India by the British due to their substantial contribution to the British
Indian Army (Ali, 1987, p. 112; 1988, pp. 110–111; Yong, 2005, pp. 79–81). The
process of land distribution was very uneven and paternalistic under the aegis of
British authorities that increased the polarization between rich and poor to the extent
that Ali has called it the “development of underdevelopment”.2
Apart from general land grants to migrants from East Punjab and pastoral tribes,
the British government allocated a significant amount of agricultural land to the
British Indian Military for cavalry horse runs and fodder production for military
animals (Ali, 1988). Following the partition of India in 1947, this land, initially
granted to the British Indian Military, was inherited by the Pakistan army.
Consequently, the largest landowner in Punjab is not a feudal landlord but the mili-
tary institution, which currently possesses approximately 68,000 acres of agricul-
tural land. District Okara, the epicenter of the peasants’ resistance, is located within
this region of Punjab where the military holds de facto ownership of extensive agri-
cultural farms known as Military Farms Okara. The presence of distinct forms of
landlordism, both British and Pakistani military, before and after the partition of
India has given rise to a unique social fabric in the villages of Okara, setting them
apart from other villages in Punjab in various aspects. As Asim Sajjad highlights,
the sociological dynamics of social life under military landlordism differ from the
2
See Ali, Imran. (1987). Malign Growth? Agricultural Colonization and the Roots of Backwardness
in Punjab, for more debate on canal colonies and the roots of backwardness in Pakistani Punjab.
impoverished peasantry depicted in many Marxist studies (Sajjad, 2006, p. 479).

The British distribution of land grants in canal colonies engendered two types of
feudalism in Pakistan, which directly inherited these colonies: “feudal landlordism”
and “institutional landlordism.” Gaining an understanding of the distinct social con-
ditions experienced by the peasantry under the institutional landlordism of the mili-
tary will aid in comprehending the subjugation of peasants and shed light on the
nature of their resistance against military landlords and land grabbing.
The district of Okara, which has been the epicenter of the peasants’ movement
against the Pakistan military since 2000, is situated 134 kilometers away from the
provincial capital, Lahore, along the national highway and the Lahore-Karachi rail-
way line. In Okara, the Pakistani military inherited a total of 17,000 acres of agri-
cultural land from its British predecessors. Out of this land, 12,000 acres have been
occupied by the peasants since the year 2000.
Following Pakistan’s last military coup against the democratically elected gov-
ernment, the peasants of Okara established an organization called Anjumen
Muzareena Punjab in the year 2000. The formation of AMP aimed to resist the mili-
tary landlords’ attempt to change the land contract from sharecropping to a rent-in-
cash system. The tenants perceived this new contract as an effort by the military to
permanently expropriate them from their land and village. Their suspicions were
confirmed by incidents of actual eviction attempts by the military and local civil
land authorities like the patwari (land record officer) when the new contract was
announced. Instead of immediately evicting the tenants from their agricultural land,
the military introduced the new contract that downgraded the peasants’ status from
permanent tenants connected to the land through labor, cultivation, and settlement
to mere leaseholders who would be required to vacate the land once the lease expired
or if they failed to pay the rent.
This form of land grabbing involved not only denying the peasants’ access to
their agricultural land and the natural resources associated with it but also threat-
ened to dispossess them from their villages. It reflected conflicting views on the
relationship with the land, with the military-landlord perceiving it as an economic
asset to maximize profit, while the tenants viewed it as an attempt to evict them not
just from their agricultural land but also from their villages.
This unique form of landlordism not only exerted control over the social life of
the villages before the movement but also posed a threat of dispossession from the
villages during the land-grabbing attempt. Therefore, I contend that the resulting
peasants’ resistance against these land-grabbing attempts goes beyond stalling capi-
tal accumulation by denying rent and refusing to sign the new contract system with
the landlord.
92 M. Qasim
Peasants’ sit in before Punjab Assembly Hall for the ownership rights of agricultural land. 25th
November 2014. Participants’ faces are blurred to protect their identity. (Source: Author’s photos)
As we lay hungry and naked, GHQ (General Headquarters Pakistan Military) stole and left us
disrobed. (Peasants’ chant)
The slogan coined by the peasants’ resistance movement under the AMP banner
vividly portrays the hardships endured by the peasants due to direct military inter-
vention in their villages. During my interactions with the tenants in their villages
and at their political rallies, their discussions about the movement consistently
revolved around their experiences under military control. Each interviewee empha-
sized the oppressive and marginalized nature of their lives under military domina-
tion, seeking to justify and establish a moral basis for their right to resist the army.
The aforementioned slogan sheds light on two significant aspects of the peasants’
lives prior to the emergence of the AMP movement. Firstly, it highlights the eco-
nomic marginalization faced by the peasants, as the military was involved in appro-
priating the surplus generated by the village economy. Secondly, it explains the loss
of self-respect and a loss of social identity as members of a village community. In
addition to economic exploitation, under military domination, peasants were also
suffering from an ontological crisis. As Scott very rightly observed in peasants’
communities, poverty is not a simple matter of shortage of food and cash but it
includes a threat to peasants’ modest standing in a village community too (Scott,
1985, p. 236). In the same way, the peasants of OMFs understand their marginaliza-
tion both in terms of economic and social exploitation under complete servitude of
military landlordism. Therefore, the question of land possession, for the tenants, is
a prism through which they evaluate the relationship between property and propri-
ety, servitude and freedom, and state and society (Rizvi, 2019). The possession of
agricultural land is not only a material security to tenants in terms of food and shel-
ter but also conforms to their modest position in a village community; without it
tenants cannot stand to a normative life in a village.
Anwar3 is a peasant activist of AMP. He has written several poems that articulate
the peasants’ social life under military domination. Two of his poems lament the
military oppression in the following ways:
Poem 1
“This land of ours, this nation of ours”
These are all lies, oh friends of ours!
This land of the lords, of the men in khaki and boots.
Whose bodies are hidden under the façade of medals and metal loops.
Somebody should these peasants ask, empty stomached and forced to fast,
How long has it been since their families starve?
“This land of ours, this nation of ours”
These are all lies, oh friends of ours!” (Anwar)
The poem is translated by Raza Khan from Urdu to English

In another poem, Mustafa explains the tenants’ grievances under the military
landlords in the following way:
Poem 2
“It has been so long since the mounted division grabbed our land.
Why hasn’t anybody, since then stopped their hand?
Outsiders have become the lords of our land.
3
Pseudo-names are used for the peasants to protect their identities.
94 M. Qasim
This long denial of our rights I don’t understand.

In 1947 we too were freed
Why does the army then treat us like a different breed?” (Anwar).
(This poem was translated by Mariam Dogar from Punjabi).
These two poems of Anwar simultaneously explain the memory of the suffering
of peasants and also the type of social lives that peasants had to live under military
domination.
Deideologizing Everyday Experiences
Fanon’s experience of French colonialism in Algeria led him to the conclusion that
the colonial world is compartmentalized. For him, “it is obviously as superfluous to
recall the existence of ‘native’ towns and European towns, schools for ‘native’ and
schools for European, as it is to recall apartheid in South Africa.” Compartmentalization
is a division of the native and European lives in the colony. The dividing line
between them is represented by the barracks and the police station. In the colonies,
colonial agents of violence, the police, and the army display and demonstrate vio-
lence in the homes and in the minds of colonial subjects. We see the colonists use
the language of pure violence against the colonized openly and without any secrecy.
The compartmentalized life in the colonies, which is established by the colonizer
through the use of pure violence, showed two different kinds of lives of two differ-
ent kinds of “human species”: the prosperous sector of Europeans and the shanty
towns of natives. Fanon sketched the life of natives in the following way: “You are
born anywhere, anyhow. You die anywhere, from anything. It’s a world with no
space, people are piled one on top of the other, the shacks squeezed tightly together.
The colonized sector is a famished sector, hungry for bread, meat, shoes, coal, and
light” (Fanon, 1963, p. 3, 4, 5).
The life of colonized villagers in OMFs was not different from the compartmen-
talized life sketched by Fanon under French colonialism. Haji Asghar, who is a resi-
dent of Renala Military Farm, explained what kind of life they had under military
domination before the eruption of the peasant movement. He explained that “we
were like animals for them, in fact, we were treated more badly than Fojis’ (sol-
dier’s) animals. They had some respect for their animals but we the humans, who do
all work for them without asking anything in return were treated very disgracefully”
(Asghar, interview, Dec 25th, 2015). Military Farm authorities’ employees used
zoological terms for the tenants whenever they interacted with each other in routine
matters. Tenants were being called by the names of animals that could lift heavy
weight. Farm employees used to call tenants by the name of Baru4 whenever they
needed unpaid labor. Fanon is of the view that colonized became a dehumanized
4
Niamat Ali told me that the word ‘Baru’ is a zoological term for all those animals which are used
in tedious and arduous work. “Farms’ employees used to call us ‘Baru’ because we did a lot of
unpaid work for them.
subject in colonies. “In a plain talk, between colonizer and colonized, they are
reduced to the state of animals and thereby when colonizer speak about colonized
he uses zoological terms” (Fanon, 1963, p. 7). I found from the peasants’ stories that
farm authorities despised tenants with rude names. The marginalization of tenants
was not limited to only the economic sphere. Thereby, under military landlordism,
I understand the relationship between the landlord and tenants as a relationship of
colonizer and colonized and the differences between the two manifested in many
spheres. Materially, this was a difference between poor peasants, who lived in shan-
ties, and prosperous military men, who have clean marvelous bungalows to live in
and clean offices to work. Culturally, this difference was expressed between the
educated, well-mannered, legally empowered, and disciplined soldiers with the
ignorant layman and dehumanize tenants.
Peasants were not allowed to have paved houses. There were areas specified in
each village about four acres by the military farm authorities where all the villagers
lived in little shanties. Kaleem dweller of Walter Gunj 14.A.1.R of Renal Military
Farms showed me small settlements where all the peasants of villages used to live
before the eruption of the peasants’ movement. He told me that almost a hundred
years ago their ancestors came here and turned this barren land into lavish green
fields of wheat, rice, corn, and fodder. Then farm authorities reserved this little piece
of land for the village’s residence, but with time “our families grew and it was
impossible to live in this small piece of land for the whole village. In spite of our
perpetual demand neither Angraz (British) Ma’am nor military officers permitted us
to use more land for tenants’ abode.” Kaleem lamented military greed for agricul-
tural land and expressed his grief with a deep sentiment that “in these shacks, we
had no privacy of our families. He said, believe me, we lead a life of animals who
do not have proper abode to live” (Kaleem, interview, Dec 29th, 2015). None of
these villages had a place reserved for a school, mosque, and graveyard. Tenants of
these villages used to bury their dead in the other villages. Siddique told me that
“this was our biggest problem to bury our dead people. We did not have graveyards
in our villages and therefore we used to go to other villages in search of a graveyard.
Sometimes people of other villages turned up very generous and we got the place of
a grave and sometimes they turned up otherwise and that left us with no option.
Therefore we always tried to build good relations with people of other villages so
we can exploit their generosity in a time of need” (Siddique, interview, Jan 2nd,
2016). Dil Bhar showed me a place where military authorities built a check post on
Main Boulevard that led to all villages of Renala Military Farms. Every villager was
used to search out by military soldiers when they left and entered villages. He told
me that our relatives from other places eschewed visiting our places because they
abhorred this disgraceful attitude of farm authorities. We were directed by the mili-
tary farm authorities (MFA) to register a person who came to see us. This process
was very distasteful for our relatives. He told me a story of one marriage procession
that came from another village to pick up the bride but the bride’s family forgot to
inform MFA and could not get permission on time for the guests. When the mar-
riage procession reached the check post to enter the village, military authorities
stopped and asked them to show the certificate of permission to enter the village.
96 M. Qasim
After a little disceptation between soldiers and the groom’s family, soldiers started
beating up the people including the groom and forced them to flee. This was a great
degradation for the whole village, but we were not in a state to resist the military.
After that, people of other villages eschewed accepting the marriage proposal of our
daughters (Dil, interview, Jan 1st, 2016). “Baba Aleem from MFO told me that
under the military we were used to working from morning to night without food and
water. Military people summoned all the men of the village every morning before
the office of the village supervisor. Everyone was required to sit on the earth in a
few straight lines, and each day we were used to sitting in line almost an hour before
the village supervisor appeared before us. He used to pick up people of his choice
for corvee. First, we work for them. We clean their houses, their offices, and the
roads where military mobiles rode, and on these roads, we were not allowed to
walk. After completing their tasks, hungry and thirsty, then we rush to our fields to
cut the fodder for our hungry animals and to water our fields. He also told me that
we were not even allowed to eat or pluck food from our fields. He said this was a
great zulum (brutality) on us. We cultivate a crop with arduous work, and these
crops are ready to be reaped because of our blood and sweat but we were not allowed
to even pluck a single grain to even taste what kind of crop we have produced. The
village guard of MFA used to keep sight on each villager and if someone was found
“thieving” from their field, they were charged with heavy fines. He told that our
lives before our tanzeem were not different from the lives of slaves. We were never
allowed to celebrate any Eid or any other national day. He said that on both Eids we
were asked by military people to clean the whole villages and paint the roadside to
decorate trees and their offices. Our whole day passed doing work without food and
water, and each night when we returned to our home I went to my charpai (bed)
without seeing a single person of my family because, after a whole day of arduous
work, I used to lose my sanity” (Aleem, interview, Jan 7th, 2016).
Besides that, military economic exploitation of peasants was also very intense.
Jabbar Khumbo told me that under the share-cropping system, tenants and the mili-
tary have to divide the production equally among themselves, but the military
always took up more than 50%, and sometimes, according to his estimate, they
snatched almost 70% of their production (Jabbar, interview, Jan 3rd, 2016). There
was a system of “evaluation” of the production of fields. This system was imposed
by farm authorities on the tenants’ crop production. According to that evaluation
system, farm authorities used to estimate the expected production of each peasant’s
land, and tenants were required to produce at least that estimated production. Abid
cursed the evaluation method of the military. He was of the view that “this is a rapa-
cious method. Fouji always deliberately estimated the expected production of our
fields higher than the average production land normally produced.” He said it was a
rapacious act of military authorities and they were always busy planning to grab the
tenants’ crops5 (Abid, interview, Jan, 9th 2016).
5
Mubbashir Rizvi (2019) also discussed the MFA’s crop evaluation method. He also recorded the
stories of the tenants in which they cursed this method as a rapacious method of soldiers.
Jameel from Colayana State’s village also sketched their life under military land-
lordism more or less the same as Fanon sketched it in his book The Wretched of the
Earth. He told me that we remained Ghulam (slave) even after 1947 when the
British landlord left our country. He wished that “how good it would be if the Angraz
(British) also took Pakistani Fouj (military) with them so that we can genuinely get
freedom from servitude.” He asked me: “Tell me. You are an educated man. What
type of freedom is this when the British left our land and the Pakistan Army seized
them again, so we remain slaves, now of Pakistan army and before them of Colonel
Cole?”6 He also said “now our conditions are much better after the successful resis-
tance to the military but before that there were no Chudary (landlord or Yeoman) in
the village and every one of us was Kammi (landless laborer class) for them regard-
less of their caste and the size of landholding. He said, you better tell me, a village
peon who is a grade 4 employee in farm authorities and he is not an officer, but in
fact, he must be poorer than us in his home. But when he used to take a round of our
villages, all tenants hold their breath and everyone was required to salute him. These
village peons were used to summon us and also used to write our attendance before
the village office and they used to call our name with a derogation and did not even
care to respect our elders.” He told me that “military officers asked us to send our
daughters and wives to their homes for work in their home.” He said “they deliber-
ately asked for our women for services in their houses and this was a most disgrace-
ful thing for us. He also told me that to penalize the alleged lazy woman worker,
officers order her to stand the whole day outside his office without dobata”7 (Jameel,
interview, Jan 16th 2016).
ecolonized Social Life: A Perspective and Practice of Peace

D
from Below
Wheat Water Knead the Dough, Do Not Let the Pak Army Go. (Peasants’ chant)
In Fanon’s words:
Decolonization is truly the creation of new men. But such a creation cannot be attributed to
a supernatural power: The ‘thing’ colonized becomes a man through the very process of
liberation. (Fanon, 1963, p. 2)
Following Fanon’s above analysis about decolonization, this chapter sheds light on
the inception and the struggle of Anjuman Muzareen Punjab, which reclaimed peas-
ants lost self and identity, their distorted social existence, and their infiltrated econ-
omy from military domination. All in all, the whole struggle of tenants under the
united banner of AMP was a struggle for the decolonization of tenants’ colonized
6
Sir Colonel Cole was a British cavalry officer who received a grant of 7500 acres under horse
breeding schemes. See Ali, Imran. (1988). pp. 156–157.
7
Dobata is a garment that is used by females to cover their heads and faces.
98 M. Qasim
life from the domination of the military. The tenants of OMFs inflicted a collective
resistance upon the army in the year 2000 when the military posed a threat of per-
manent eviction to peasants from their lands and villages.
The initial events of decolonization of peasants’ life started in late 2000 after the
formation of AMP. That was a time when in all villages of OMF, striking events of
resistance by peasants and coercion by military8 were happening in several forms.
Virtues of the People
Dil Bhar Khombo told me the stories of how the people of Ranala Military Farm
united to resist military domination to get freedom from military rule. He told me
that chak Kurd 20.1.R played a central and significant role to unite and give courage
to people of other villages of RMF. In the year 1996, Iqbal’s house collapsed, and
the resident of Kurd 20.1.R village, because of heavy rains that year. He rebuilt his
house afterward many times because it used to collapse or be heavily damaged due
to each rain of the season. Dil Bhar told me that they were never allowed by Military
Farm’s authorities to get their houses paved. They were not allowed to get bricks
inside the village, and if someone was caught carrying bricks inside the village,
“even a single brick,” then that person was called by the farm’s authorities the very
next day to see Colonel Ali (the then presiding officer of RMF). People of RMF
shared collective feelings of agony towards him. According to the tenants, he used
to penalize them severely on petty mistakes such as if you were caught with even a
single brick carrying inside the village, then he used to give certain kinds of punish-
ments to tenants such as the convicted person was ordered by Colonel Ali to stand
on one foot the whole day in the scorching sun before his office. Iqbal was very
downhearted because his mud house was unable to stand for a long time before a
rain or a storm and he had to make and repair his house many times after it first col-
lapsed because of heavy rains in 1996. For each new construction or repair of his
mud house, he had to bribe farm authorities to dig mud from his fields. In 2000,
when the whole village united under the banner of AMP to struggle against the
“servitude”9 under which their ancestors and they were living for several decades,
they said to Iqbal: “Iqbal, go and get bricks for your house and the whole village
will stand with you.” That day Iqbal purchased bricks for his house and the whole
8
Pakistan Rangers (a paramilitary force) made two military campaigns in the year 2002 and 2003.
The tenants’ villages were sieged, electricity and telephone contentions were cut and the free
movements of the villagers inside the village and to leave their villages were barred. For a detailed
account of these paramilitary campaigns to suppress the tenants please see Human Rights Watch
report: Ali Dayan Hasan (2004), Soiled hands: The Pakistan Army’s repression of the Punjab farm-
ers’ movement and see Murphy, E. (2013). Class conflict, state terrorism and the Pakistani mili-
tary: The Okara military farms dispute.
9
Tenants used the word ghulami (servitude) very frequently whenever they explain their social
conditions under military landlordism. It is very striking that life before the formation of AMP was
a life of ghulami and life after the formation of AMP is a life of azadi (freedom) for tenants.
village gathered before the military check post. They together let the tractor trolley
full of bricks pass into the village, and the military soldiers on the check post low-
ered their guns down in front of hundreds of villagers. The next day military farms
authorities asked Iqbal to show himself to Colonel Ali. The tenants decided that they
will not let Iqbal go alone to see him, but rather the whole village would go with him
to see the Colonel. Hundreds of villagers went along with Iqbal to see Colonel Ali.
When they reached outside the Colonel’s office and when the Colonel saw a huge
mob of people, he got furious. He said, “I only called Iqbal. Why the hell are you all
here"? They replied, with one voice, “we are all Iqbal. Tell us why you called us
(Iqbal) here.” That day, they all returned to their village with victorious feelings.
Afterward, they all started to get bricks and paved their houses, and “nobody dared
to stop us,” in Dil Bhar words (Dil, interview, Jan 2nd, 2016). Later they all refused
to pay corvee to the military too.
Along with this, I also heard many other stories from the peasants that after their
organization was built, they refused to give fodder from their fields to military dairy
farms. As Anwar Ariyan residents of chak 4.4.L MFO told me after the formation of
their tanzeem, people of villages felt some courage inside them, and they openly
refused to obey farm authorities. He told me that tenants refused to give a portion of
fodder of their field to military dairy farms. Besides sharecropping tenants were also
obliged to surrender a half portion of the fodder of their fields to the military dairies.
Anwar told me that when tenants refused to surrender a portion of fodder for dairy
farms, then military officers started to beseech tenants for a very small portion of
fodder, but they blatantly refused to do that. Anwar derisively said to me that “this
refusal was like a starvation message to greedy soldiers who never did little chores
before and now they have to produce fodder themselves for their animals” (Anwar,
interview, Jan 8th, 2016).
Dil Bhar told me that after Iqbal’s episode of “bricks” in Kurd 20.1.R, people of
other villages of Renala State contacted them and asked them whether they may be
part of this organization which was welcomed by the villagers and leaders of AMP
warmly. People of four villages Khurd, Kala, Devisarabad, and Lewis Pura in RMF
got united under the AMP except for two villages of RMF Hazel Pura and Walter
Gunj, which joined AMP early in the year 2007 when the tenants of Colyana State
also joined the AMP. The entire Colyana state and the two villages of RMF unlike
the other four villages of RMF and MFO villages were tilling land under the rent-
in-cash system since their incorporation by the military after the partition of India.
The land of Colayana State and the two villages of RMF are allotted to retired mili-
tary officers who charge annual rent to tenants. Dil Bhar told me that when the RMF
united under AMP, then every tenant started to pave their houses in RMF. He told
me that farm authorities and Colonel Ali were helpless before their organization.
Whenever the tractor trolley full of bricks reached the check post of the military, the
tenants of four villagers together let it pass in the villages and with time no house in
these villages was not paved, Dil Bhar told me (Dil, interviewed by the author, Jan
2nd, 2016).
The paving of houses by tenants informs us about the process of decolonization
of tenants’ life. This decolonization started with the paving of houses and ended
100 M. Qasim
with the complete expulsion of the military from the social lives of tenants’ villages.
Colonization is the control of the social lives of colonized (tenants) by the colonizer
(military), and contrary to that the process of decolonization subverts, this phenom-
enon and instead of the colonizer (military) the colonized (tenants) themselves com-
pletely control their lives and repel the colonizer (military) from their territory.
Praxis
The process of decolonization that started with the paving of houses continued, and
it took more robust forms with time. The tenants started to challenge and remove all
signs of domination and colonization from their villages.
In January of 2002, Colonel Ali sent his private ruffians to Kala village of RMF
to expropriate the land of a tenant late Shaheed Shabir,10 who was killed by a bullet
of the military in a skirmish between tenants and the military over the appropriation
of his land by the Colonel’s private hooligans (military authorities used this tactic of
private thugs on several occasions to intimidate villagers. A similar case happened
in Colyana State after their articulation with AMP in the year 2007. A retired army
officer sent private hooligans, who were notorious for their criminal activities in that
region, to grab the land from the tenant’s control. In that skirmish, tenants of
Colyana state as usual were defenseless before the armed hooligans of retired army
officers. During the confrontation of both parties, three tenants get murdered and
several, including women, were injured). Many people from all four villages gath-
ered to retake possession of the land. The tenants were confronted first by Colonel
Ali’s private hooligans, and when the Colonel’s hooligans observed that the situa-
tion is getting out of their hands, then they called the army for their assistance. Then
tenants were confronted directly by military soldiers who came to help their private
hooligans. Rafique told me that tenants of four villagers came to encounter the
worse situations including him and nobody had any type of gun; rather the tenants’
weapons were tilling instruments which they use to dig mud. The army opened fire
on the defenseless villagers, and in that fight, four to five villagers got injured by the
army’s fire. One of the villagers died on the spot, but Colonel Ali could not snatch
the land from the tenants, Rafique told me. When this conflict was over, the furious
villagers destroyed the military check post that was on the main road which leads to
all villages of Renala Estate, where military soldiers used to search out each vil-
lager when they would enter the village and where the tenants’ relatives from the
other villages needed permission before from the farm authorities to enter in the
villages. As Aslam told me that, “this check post was a border for us like India and
Pakistan and each time when we entered in our villages soldiers used to stop us then
search out our body and checked our national identity cards and then let us enter in
our villages. When tenants demolish the check post then the Army soldiers on duty
10
Human Right Watch (2004) also recorded this incident in their report.
fled from the spot. Later, District Police Officer Okara and Rangers came to harass
people but we were standing united and never get scared again,” Aslam said in a
robust voice.
In addition to this, a lot of other things happened that further assert the decolo-
nized self of tenants. By demolishing different symbols of military domination, the
tenants reaffirmed their decolonized selves. There were farm authorities’ offices in
each village of military farms where tenants were forced to sit on their feet in line
for hours waiting for the farm officer, wondering when will he come and assign
them their duties and penalize the convicted tenants for their transgressions and at
night they took attendance of each tenant with their work progress. All in all, these
offices were a major symbol of military domination upon tenants, and these were
sort of military headquarters from where they used to control the tenants’ social
lives. When the process of decolonization started by the tenants under the banner of
AMP, they broke many symbols of domination and among them was one of these
farm’s offices in each village. In some villages, offices were occupied by homeless
tenants, and in some, they remained emptied and wrecked and used as a bin for a
whole village to dispose of their wastes.
Under military domination, the thing that made tenants less human was the struc-
ture of their collective social life. They used to live in shanty towns in little mud
shacks. Their villages were without graveyards, mosques, playgrounds, and schools.
Tenants were not allowed to observe any religious, cultural, or national days.
Inshallah, a resident of Hazel Pura, pointed with fingers at one house and told me
that “where now one family is living in this house before the formation of AMP
twenty families were used to live in this small place.” Therefore, the process of
decolonization for the tenants was to reclaim those things which are part of the col-
lective social life of the village from which they were deprived under military domi-
nation or colonization of their lives. As Fanon contended, it is the very process of
decolonization that makes the colonized subject a complete human being. After the
tenants’ successful resistance, in which they repelled the military from their villages
and took a control of their own social lives, they rebuilt the structure of their social
lives. This reconstruction of decolonized life of tenants included many things such
as building big paved mosques, having playgrounds for children, and having a place
for a graveyard, to re-scheme the residential areas, distributing land to landless ten-
ants who were evicted from their lands or had no land at all; to make barren land
cultivable; and to celebrate or observe religious, social, and peasants’ tanzeem
(organization) days. Nazeer Khokar from Walter Gunj told me that after tanzeem
they allocated more area for residences. He pointed toward one side and said, this
was the old settlement, he pointed to another side, this is the new settlement that we
made after AMP. He told me that the district officer came many times to intimidate
us, saying that we cannot do this, it is illegal. He said, “In response, we told him
each time very gently that this is our land and our village so you do not need to
intervene” (Nazeer, interview, Jan 29th, 2016).
The other major difference that we noticed in the tenants’ villages of military
farms with other villages of Punjab after the peasants’ movement is the social life of
villages that is very much attached to tenants’ tanzeem AMP. Decolonized life of
102 M. Qasim
tenants’ villages is dependent on the tenants’ organization AMP. Kinship structures

(biradries) that are a very fundamental social unit of village life were absent/non-
functional in these villages before the eruption of the movement because the pre-
conditions that are necessary for kinship ties were absent due to institutional
landlordism of the army. The literature on Punjab villages’ societies delineates at
least three economic classes in the Punjab villages as follows:
1. The landlord class which is the major economic class of the village consists of a
few families who own major portions of village lands and also control the poli-
tics of the village. Often, two landlords from the same economic class, but from
different castes or patti and sometimes from the same castes, even compete in
the political arena.
2. The artisan and small businessman class11 of society, who normally do not hold
any land and in some cases very little piece of land. Artisan class’s economic
activity depended on their profession and occupational caste, like Nai (hair-
dresser and cook), Tarkhan (carpenter), and Dhaba (tailor), and also little busi-
ness classes also exist in the villages who do have small shops of cloths,
departmental stores, or sweets shops.
3. Landless land laborer caste, the most impoverished class of villager. They do
work on the land of the big landholding class of the village (Ahmad, 1972, p. 61).
These all classes in the villages are tied around their biradries.12 This social network
of villages also has profound effects on the political alignments at the time of elec-
tions. According to many studies during elections, the major landholding class who
also dominate the political sphere gather votes based on kinship ties and clientelism.
All in all, the biradries network are central social units of villages that actively
influence the process of politics at the time of elections.13 On the other hand, we find
very different social hierarchies in the villages of AMP before the emergence of
their movement. There was one landlord in these villages which is a central domi-
nant institution. Under its ascendancy, no social hierarchies in the villages could be
established. Unlike our above derivation of three economic and social classes of
villages, under military landlordism, there was only one economic and social class,
and these were tenants. Biradries network ceased to exist in these villages even
though there were all castes present in these villages from landholding to artisan and
land laborer, but there could not be established any social hierarchies in these vil-
lages. Aniyat Ali, a tenant from the MFO, explained this phenomenon very interest-
ingly: “In the military time there was no distinction of Muslim and Christian, there
11
S. Ahmad in his study “peasant classes of Pakistan” categorized villages’ classes into two cate-
gories of ‘Zamindar’ and ‘Kammis’. He did have another class of small businessmen in the villages
who run their small businesses like general stores, cloth shops, etc. and he also put the artisan class
in the ‘Kammis’ category.
12
For example see, Alavi, H. A. (1972). Kinship in west Punjab villages. Contributions to Indian
Sociology, 6(1), 1–27. For more discussion on the kinship structures of Punjab’s villages.
13
For example see, Mohmand, S. K. (2014). Losing the connection: party-voter linkages in
Pakistan. Commonwealth & Comparative Politics, 52(1), 7–31.
was no division of Ariyan and Mousali (land laborer) among peasants for the mili-
tary because we were all slaves for them. They treated all of us very derisively
without any distinction of whether he is a fellow Muslim or not, and whether he is
Jat (land owning class of Punjab) or Mousali (landless laborer)” (Aniyat, interview,
Jan 20th, 2016). Similarly, after the formation of the AMP movement in these vil-
lages, the social and political structures that emerged there are yet outright different
than the other villages of Punjab. The social structures and hierarchies that emerged
after the peasants’ movements are also very different than the typical villages of
Punjab. Tenants’ tanzeem AMP perform all those social and political functions that
are performed by kinship ties or briadires in other villages. It is not to say that
people are completely free from their primordial loyalties of caste, religion, and
briadries but rather that their manifestation in social and political structures of vil-
lages is different from the other villages of Punjab. AMP as tanzeem of tenants plays
the role of a major mediator in routine conflict of peasants. These conflicts normally
come for mediation to the symbolic headquarters.14
Along many social statuses like caste, briadries, and religion, there is another
status of tanzeem’s leader that is a major source of social capital and prestige in
these villages. People’s day-to-day life gatherings and sittings occur as tanzeem
members like to organize a game tournament with the name of tanzeem and then
call tanzeem’s leaders as chief guests. The social places of tenants’ gatherings are
also built around tanzeem, and major bhetaks (community gatherings) of tenants
also occurred on tanzeem headquarters. In addition to this, tanzeem also celebrates
and observes several days. These events are exclusively attached with tanzeem like
the 10th Dec day of Shaheed Bashir day is celebrated in RMF each year. On this
day, tenants from all over RMF gather on Ch. Nadeem Ashraf dehra to observe the
death anniversary of Shaheed Bashir. According to tenants, Bashir was the first
person who sacrificed his life for the cause of tenants, and thereby they observe his
death anniversary each year on 10th Dec. Such events and tenants’ gatherings are a
permanent source of their radical politics, and this also keeps fresh tenants’ collec-
tive history of suffering. In mosques and especially in Juma prayers, Imam-e-Masjid
talks about tanzeem, and prayers are offered for arrested tanzeem leaders and other
members of AMP. Furthermore, AMP is a prevailing political force in tenants’ vil-
lages. However, other competing political forces do exist in these villages too, who
do politics on the base of kinship ties or clientelism, but they have never succeeded
in the local body elections against the tenants’ tanzeem AMP. AMP tenants call their
opponent tenants, who participate in the anti-tanzeem activities through competing
elections, and by becoming police informants, “Amen group” (peaceful group), this
is a derisive term for those who are ready to compromise with the military and
always try to win military generosity through fawning military and police, accord-
ing to AMP tenants. I observed in tenants’ villages that people who are labeled with
Amen group in villages, because of their presumptively anti-tanzeem activities, have
been ostracized by tenants of AMP from the village community. In the last local
14
These places are usually houses of leaders of AMP in each village.
104 M. Qasim
body elections Oct 2015, AMP candidates score all the seats in all military farms of
Okara against the candidates of Pakistan Muslim League (N), the leading party in
the national and provincial assembly of Punjab at that time. Local body elections
consist of one union council (UC) chairman for each UC and four to five general
councilors in each UC. AMP scored all the chairman and general councilor’s seats
against the then leading party of the province Muslim League (N) except one seat of
general councilor. AMP won total of eight chairmen of three military farms of Okara
and almost 18 general councilors in local body elections of 2015. One UC chairman
seat was contested and won by Christian tenants of AMP against a Muslim contes-
tant of the Muslim League (N) party. We can observe an underlying tension between
kinship ties, castes, and Religion with the tenants’ tanzeem AMP as one AMP can-
didate lost his seat in local body elections in 2015. I asked Rifique why AMP candi-
date Ikram lost the elections of general councilors against his opponents, who had a
ticket of Muslim League (N), while all the other candidates of AMP won the elec-
tions. He told me that Ikram was chosen as a candidate for general councilors by
AMP, but another fellow tenant also wanted to contest this seat, and he rejected the
decision of AMP leadership he also contested elections on the AMP ticket.15
Therefore, both candidates have a photo of Nadeem Ashraf (who was in Jail at that
time) on their election campaign banners, and thereby according to Raifque, the
votes of AMP tenants divided in apparently two candidates of AMP which gave
leverage to Muslim League (N) candidate who was mobilizing tenants on caste,
birdadrie, and clientelism. Rafique told me that he only won by 14 votes, and this
means that our tanzeem is still dominant and not weak. This specific case depicts the
underlying tension between kinship ties, biradries, caste, and religion within the
AMP. The tensions between the two candidates of general councilors also rested on
the briadrie, caste politics, and the opponents who are so far losers in every local
body election since the formation of AMP also score substantial numbers of votes,
though not enough to defeat their opponent candidates of AMP.
Conclusion
Tenants were very proud of what they have achieved through their collective strug-
gles. As Aslam, a peasant activist of AMP pointed his finger toward a playground
where children and teenagers were playing volleyball and cricket. He said this is for
what we have resisted and this is what we have achieved. Our children can play, go
to school, offer prayers, and host a guest at our houses. He further said, Look at us
we are having a very friendly and emotional conversation something we could never
imagine having under the military (Aslam, interviewed by the author, 27th
March 2016)
15
AMP is not a registered party with the election commission of the country, in these villages AMP
tickets for elections mean that the chosen candidate of AMP wrote on his campaign banners the
name of tanzeem and also print the photo of the leader of the respective military farm.
This chapter analyzes the land rights movement of the peasantry of Punjab to
show that the peasants’ movement for land rights is aimed at liberating their social
life not just the agricultural land. In so doing, this chapter theorizes and highlights
social-ontological acts of resistance, such as building paved houses, playgrounds,
schools, and mosques and destroying the symbols of dominations. Further, this
chapter highlights and analyzes that these acts of resistance would only be visible if
we understand the social, political, and historical context of the peasants’ subjuga-
tion. Peasants’ subjugation was not limited to the control of their agricultural land,
but it was just one aspect of their social subjugation under military landlordism.
Further, this chapter sheds light how colonial violent state-making processes
shaped state-society relationships in post-colonial Pakistan. The peasants’ subjuga-
tion sheds light on that how the colonial structures are continued and sustained by
the postcolony. Formal independence from the colonial master is not a liberation but
a continuation of the same violence in new forms and disguises. Further, this chap-
ter highlights and theorizes through the peasants’ struggles that how peace is pos-
sible from the perspectives and the agencies of the subaltern that is delinked from
our colonial past and neocolonial present.
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Muhammad Qasim is a lecturer in the Department of Political Science and International

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Searching for Liberation in Higher
Education: Testimonio from Miami-Dade
County
Ivania Delgado
Abbreviations
BIPOC Black, Indigenous, People of Color

IQ intelligence quotient
I know, as you do, from having been a student and from observing faculty as well as being
a member of many faculties, that the values one personally holds seep through. Through
everything I say, write, and do, however I may try to stand between, to the side, or over
issues of ethics and value when discussion is underway, my position is either known or
available to be known. (Morrison, 2001)
The perpetuation of deficit narratives, which include incomplete histories that mis-
represent Black, indigenous, and students of color in the classroom, creates an
oppressive learning environment. Black, indigenous, and students of color in higher
education must leave pieces of themselves at the door of the classroom to succeed
in our academic settings. Educators need to center the lived experiences of our stu-
dents and learn from their stories to understand the impact of these experiences in
academia. Through testimonios, the knowledge that comes from subjective experi-
ences and is often silenced and offers us not just the trauma or psychological dis-
tress but also the resistance, resilience, and protest of within these students can be
accessed. These testimonios will provide insight about their lived experiences in
these educational programs so that we may hold institutions accountable for their
historical roles in centering Whiteness, individualism, and power structures that
promote hierarchy.
It is essential to acknowledge that “although students of color are holders and
creators of knowledge, they often feel that their histories, experiences, cultures, and
languages are devalued, misinterpreted, or omitted within formal educational set-
tings” (Bernal, 2002, p. 106). The testimonio methodology would help educators
capture these powerful stories that are often missed through other methods. I myself
I. Delgado (*)
Core Faculty, Social Work, School of Cultural & Family Psychology, Pacific Oaks College &
Children’s School, Pasadena, CA, USA
e-mail: idelgado@pacificoaks.edu
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-41965-2_6
108 I. Delgado
was one of these students, and I believe that gathering these testimonios will expose
the impact that these experiences in academia have had on our identities and how
the lack of historically responsive texts and anti-oppressive and intersectionality
frameworks as guides in the development of curricula, teaching practices, and men-
torship relationships cause harm to the developing student/professional.
I have been an educator for 15 years at several institutions, teaching undergradu-
ate and graduate psychology and social work courses. I have held clinical teaching
positions, such as an adjunct lecturer, assistant teaching professor, and core faculty
member. My positionality, which consists of my experience in the world and
my worldview in relation to others, includes growing up in Miami, where your
nationality erases your racial identity, and the myth of meritocracy is fed to us for
breakfast, lunch, and dinner. In this same city, verbalizing your commitment to the
collective well-being, collaboration, and solidarity with those most affected by
inequity get you labeled as problematic and painted as a traitor to the country that
welcomed your refugee parents. My K-12 education, university education, and
overall clinical training were primarily taught to me as ahistorical and apolitical.
This denied my personal experience as a bilingual woman of color and a daughter
of working-class political refugees from Central America, and it also upheld ideolo-
gies that promoted universality and race neutrality.
Race, ethnicity, and class were rarely discussed in my courses. These topics were
missing in the curriculum and class discussions, and educators did not address them
openly. As a student, I could not know why educators did not challenge the centering
of Whiteness, capitalism, and the patriarchy because most of my classes upheld a
power differential between the educator and the student, and asking these questions
was just not a thing you did. In a system that ties graduation to gainful employment
and financial stability, challenging these systems of oppression within a top-down
power structure seemed like a risky proposition. Education is political and historical,
and all programs should be a place for consciousness-raising and transformation.
Educators could learn to teach beyond skills and competencies and ground their
lessons in social justice and action (Muhammad, 2020). Our students can and should
leave our classrooms feeling seen and included. They should not just learn about the
social conditions of different populations from a distance but learn how to change
the conditions that these multiple pandemics continue to create. Utilizing the deco-
lonial method of testimonio to challenge the oppressive patriarchal capitalist
Eurocentrism embedded in the mental health training and education will allow us to
build anti-oppressive learning conditions for our students that will enhance the mul-
ticultural, antiracist, anti-oppressive, and anti-capitalist practice of future helpers.
Pandemic: Making the Invisible Visible
As this chapter is being written, we are still in a global pandemic. Anti-Black racism,
sexism, ableism, classism, and heterosexism intersect and compound the negative
effects of the pandemic for folks with these identities. The pandemic has shown us
Searching for Liberation in Higher Education: Testimonio from Miami-Dade County 109
that what happens at these intersections is partly responsible for the racial dispari-
ties related to COVID. As such, dealing with these systems of oppression individu-
ally will not produce adequate solutions. Every social justice issue we experience
today needs to be analyzed using an anti-racist and anti-oppressive lens, including
intersectionality rooted in historical insights produced by those most impacted and
kept in the margins. The helping professions are replicating these systems of oppres-
sion by using an ahistorical and apolitical curriculum to teach and train future prac-
titioners. Curriculum building, pedagogies, and teaching practices need to respond
to the social, economic, and political needs of the communities in which they reside.
The training and education need to create practitioners that will collaboratively con-
tribute within egalitarian relationships with the most impacted toward the transfor-
mation of their communities. A shift needs to happen in our educational institutions
so that they can become pathways to liberation and not tools of oppression.
Testimonio
I was born in Brooklyn, New York, and at 3 months old, I was taken back to my
parent’s home country of Nicaragua. My first language is Spanish, and my first
educational setting was a Catholic school run by nuns, where I learned my alphabet
and numbers. My early childhood years were shaped by socioeconomic and politi-
cal unrest. It is important to note that the background of this unrest was the perva-
sive involvement of the United States in Central America and specifically around
my time, by the perceived threats that the victorious Nicaraguan revolution of 1979
posed to the United States mainly because they refused any US involvement and
collaborated with Cuba. It did not help that Nicaragua explicitly denounced US
involvement in El Salvador. This revolution ended in removing the infamous
Somoza dynasty, a dictatorship that lasted 44 years, and it removed the murderous
US-funded and US-trained Guardia. La Guardia lost the backing of the United
States when they murdered an ABC reporter named Bill Stewart. I do not know
much about Bill Stewart, but I have watched both the video of his execution by La
Guardia and the video of his last report on the civil war in Nicaragua. Stewart used
the term “the people’s war”; he described the soldiers of both sides as “young peo-
ple fighting old men’s wars.” He highlighted the discrepancy between the firepower
of La Guardia versus the guerrillas. He took time to highlight a school that was
transformed into a hospital, emphasized that many of the wounded were young, and
proceeded to show footage of an 11-year-old girl who had been shot. After his exe-
cution, his colleague at ABC made a statement describing Stewart as sensitive,
warm, and good at his job. Soldiers, weapons, and the threat of injury were always
present. As a very young child, I recall regularly hiding in the dark, being asked not
to make any noises, and watching the soldiers walking the streets in front of the
house. My family lived through this conflict because the revolution was short-lived.
The United States never ceased after 1979 and continued its efforts to rebuild a
Nicaraguan government that would protect their interests, just like it did in
Guatemala and El Salvador.
110 I. Delgado
During this time, they built a base in Honduras to train the counterrevolutionary
army. A new war, covert and unauthorized, was fledged in Nicaragua. This illegal
war destroyed the promises of the revolution, so at that time the families that could
flee the country did. Atrocities were committed through the infamous Iran-Contra
operations. Fathers and sons became soldiers for war, and as such, the decisions
were made for my father and older brother to leave first. My mother shared with us
that they came looking for my father 2 days after he had left.
Since we stayed behind, my mother sold all our belongings, including my televi-
sion. I mention the television because this is my memory as a 5-year-old child, and
this is what I cried over. I remember the feeling as if it were yesterday. My mother
sent me to my grandmother’s home to watch TV to comfort me during this time of
loss. Eventually, after we sold everything, we raised enough money to join my
father and brother, leaving los abuelos and primos behind. Ironically enough, we
came to Miami, Florida, the same place where a Miami-based aircraft charter com-
pany took missiles to Israel that were then taken to Iran. Yes, the same Iran-Contra
transactions funded the war that displaced us all (Chomsky, 2022).
I share all this because we did not erase this history when we came here; we
stored it in our central nervous systems and in our attempts to belong with every
American flag we ever bought.
My point here is to highlight that we are not blank slates. We feel a disconnect
when we go to school to learn about human behavior and mental processes, but the
social, economic, political, and historical factors that led to me being in that class-
room have been erased. In our education, there is no mention of colonization, White
supremacy, anti-Black racism, anti-indigenous racism, xenophobia, and the depri-
vations of war. There is no mention of the capitalist interests that are at the root of
the social conditions that we live in.
Post high school, I obtained a master’s degree in social work, a master’s degree
in psychology, and a doctorate in clinical psychology. My education and training
were ahistorical and apolitical. They talked about the universal human experience,
with “universal” really being code for White, neurotypical, middle-class, heteronor-
mative, and patriarchal. It not only erased me, but it also denied the context of my
circumstances and taught me to deny the context of my clients. It taught me to rep-
licate oppression in my working relationships with them.
I have a vivid memory from one of my graduate courses. I voiced beliefs rooted
in values of mutual aid, collaboration, solidarity, and sacrifice, and the professor
asked me to reflect on whether I was putting myself in a box. The professor’s values
of individualism were evident in that request, and their compartmentalization of my
experiences, as well as their lack of awareness of their positionality, reeked of supe-
riority. They ask for me to reconsider my position since my point of view may not
be healthy. This reflected a value system that upholds autonomy and achievement
through the lens of individualism. I held on as much as I could to the belief that for
me to see myself as a whole person, I needed to understand the sociopolitical history
of my people and that there was a real urgency to being an agent of change. I did not
let their feedback push me into believing that my point of view was the culprit of
how I felt about my circumstances.
The basic assumption behind this point of view that blames the victim is that
mainstream society is preferred because it reflects the “superior” European value
system and lifestyle, which reeks of the enculturation programs of the colonization
period. Theories, concepts, and techniques for assessment and intervention are
viewed as reflections of a superior culture that can help inferior and “culturally
deprived” people better themselves. It is thus not necessary to get to know the
patients or participants well, for according to the blaming-the-victim line of reason-
ing, what they have to offer is not worth knowing (Ramirez, 1998, Pg. 17).
Microaggressions like the one I shared were frequent and reflected various
themes. The most urgent deficit narrative that I want to focus on in this chapter that
I frequently encountered in higher education is the narrative that Black, indigenous,
and people of color (BIPOC) folks were not as intelligent or did not want to go to
school. This included a failure to consider the history and context of BIPOC access
to education, which always seemed like a clear form of gaslighting. BIPOC folks
were prohibited from reading and writing, killed for trying, had their knowledge
systems destroyed, and had to learn and teach others to survive covertly. Anti-
literacy laws targeting Black folks can be traced back to 1740. Jarvis R. Givens
(2021) explains that these laws resulted from the Stono Rebellion of the enslaved in
1739 South Carolina. Black folks were prohibited from writing, among other things,
to keep them enslaved. Those who learned to read and write broke these White
Supremacist capitalist laws. (pp. 27–30) Other groups come from societies that had
to rebuild their knowledge systems destroyed by colonization. Let us consider the
destruction of indigenous knowledge through colonization.
So advanced was medicine in the New World that Spain received considerably more than
she returned in the way of medical knowledge. However, during the course of the conquest
of the New World, much of the centuries of accumulated knowledge concerning the medici-
nal value of plants and herbs was destroyed. (Jr. & Mendoza, 1984, Pg. 5)
The elimination of this history in our curricula is part of what upholds the perpetu-
ation of deficit narratives in our field. Interrogating the dominant epistemologies
upheld through the curriculum in social work and psychology programs is essential
to disrupt these deficit narratives that perpetuate oppression. The way we view the
world is connected to the type of knowledge available to us. Knowledge production
is related to the conditions we live in, and the stance we take when discussing epis-
temologies can lead to hegemony or liberation. (Ladson-Billings, 2000).
The fields of social work and psychology chose hegemony when they upheld
Eurocentric theories, assessments, and interventions. They chose Rene Descartes’s
“I think. Therefore, I am” and not Ubuntu’s “I am because we are.” Eurocentrism in
the classroom teaches students to separate thoughts from feelings and to think of
themselves as objective, neutral, and as the credentialed expert. They are trained to
replicate systems of oppression that hold one person as the knower, expert, and
superior in the working relationship. These are the remnants of colonial epistemolo-
gies that dominated the study of human behavior by positioning themselves as the
only legitimate forms of knowledge. They accomplished this by positioning this
knowledge system as the most rigorous, specialized, scientific, and scholarly, ren-
dering other knowledge systems less valuable to the field.
112 I. Delgado
Ignacio Martin-Baro (1996) describes the hegemony of Eurocentric epistemolo-

gies in human behavior as scientistic mimicry. He thought that North American
psychology, in search of validation within the scientific community, in the 1900s,
compromised its goals in exchange for recognition. North American psychology
picked up the instruments and assessments from natural science to be in proximity
to power structures and ultimately upheld the status quo. In all fairness, he does call
out Latin American countries for doing the same, as they used American theories
and concepts without an in-depth interrogation of the embedded assumptions it
held, such as individualism, hedonism, historicism, and the homeostatic vision.
(pp. 20–23).
Filling the IQ Gaps Through Lesson Planning
Then came psychology: the children of the public schools were studied, and it was discov-
ered that some colored children ranked lower than white children. This gave wide satisfac-
tion even though it was pointed out that the average included most of both races and that
considering the races’ educational opportunities and social environment, the differences
were measurements simply of the ignorance and poverty of the black child’s surroundings.
(Du Bois, 1920, p. 326)
Students in higher education who study human behavior commonly learn about the
15-point IQ gap between Black and White folks. In my experience, it was always
mentioned without the historical, intersectionality, and sociopolitical background.
The IQ gap narrative is filled with underachieving students of color. I never once
heard, as the bare minimum, a disclaimer attached to this lesson encouraging us to
proceed with caution in our interpretations as scientific racism is a real issue with a
longstanding history of supporting the status quo. After all, we were being taught a
research- and evidence-based curricula filled with the notions of objectivity, neu-
trality, and firm adherence to the scientific method.
If we are going to disrupt this deficit narrative, the lesson and all the lessons need
to be taught using historically responsive texts and anti-oppressive and antiracist
frameworks. Intelligence itself may be defined differently depending on what you
read. One thing is clear: The definition varies and is contextually based. Intelligence
and IQ are not the same thing, but professors seldomly took the time to break these
down so that we did not walk away with racist notions of racial differences in
intelligence.
The narrative around intelligence is important because it connects to many other
narratives. For example, this idea that people of color are not as smart reinforces the
notions of underdeveloped nations and third- and fourth-world peoples that just can-
not seem to get it together. It also serves the savior narrative in that if these poor
people are just not as smart, then they need us to help rescue them. Discussing IQ
gaps in the classroom in an ahistorical and apolitical lesson perpetuates White
Supremacy in more ways than one.
Gould (1996) discusses how the origins of intelligence testing can be traced back
to France where Alfred Binet, in 1904, created a series of tasks to test children who
were struggling academically. When he finished, he specifically declined to assign
meaning to these scores. He believed intelligence was too complex to capture with
a single number. He believed his test was for limited use and for practical purposes,
such as designing strategies to assist children with increasing their academic abili-
ties. Binet had the insight to recognize that this work could be used in ways that he
never intended. His tests and scores could be used to provide scientific reasons to
remove children from academic settings, and through these results, teachers would
develop attitudes that would eventually push children away from schooling. Binet’s
tests were not to be interpreted as definitive of intellectual developmental disorders,
innate or permanent ability, or for ranking. Unfortunately, these tests were utilized
to maintain the status quo.
A great example of this is how the United States had other plans with the
Binet scale.
First one must have a white examiner; a group of Black children; a test standardized for
white children tested by white examiners; and just a few preconceived notions regarding the
nature of intelligence. (Guthrie, 2003, p. 76)
The American versions of these tests, always upheld as scientific, were used to mea-
sure intelligence, equate intelligence with heredity, eliminate the influence of cul-
ture, and maintain the existing social order.
Let us begin with H. H. Goddard. He is credited for introducing the Binet scale
in the United States. According to Gould (1996), this is where the hereditarian the-
ory of IQ was developed. He took the test, translated it into English, and weapon-
ized it to protect Americans from individuals that had innate limitations coming to
reproduce what he termed as feeble-minded. He went as far as connecting intelli-
gence with morality. The more intelligent you were deemed, the higher the level of
your morality. Gould explains that this is a connection made by eugenicists. These
ideas have pervasively shaped our systems as they did in 1924 with the Johnson-
Reed Act, also known as the National Origins Act, and, more recently, Jason
Richwine who wrote about Latinx countries, lower IQs, and immigration and who
in 2022 continues to have strong negative opinions about immigration in Florida.
The fallacy of race-based intelligence has been argued against through counternar-
ratives since their inception. Guthrie (2003) identifies Black educators as the ones
heading this protest since there were few Black psychologists in the 1920s. Famous
critiques of the psychological testing movement include W.E.B. Dubois, Horace
Mann Bond, and Allison Davis. Recently, Dr. Harriet Washington continued to con-
tribute to this protest as the deficit narrative persists. Harriet Washington’s (2020)
research demonstrates the many ways that hereditarians are wrong. In detail, her
research highlights environmental racism’s effects, providing further evidence that
IQ is not innate, not genetic, not impervious to change, and malleable.
114 I. Delgado
“ I do not want to get Political in the Classroom.” Freud, the

Social Democrat
The social, economic, and political factors that have shaped the helping professions
have been buried. Folks that write about liberation health history and practices are
not writing current ideas; they are uncovering voices that have been erased. The
erasure is historical, cumulative, and comprehensive. It is done through informal
and formal practices, and as such, it is intentional. We can see today in our text-
books and lessons an absence of an analysis of the social, economic, and political
structures that shaped some of the foundational origins of the helping professions.
Let me start by admitting that I do not spend much time teaching Freud in my
courses. Still, in this chapter, I would like to offer his story as an example of how the
Freud that students learn about today is ahistorical and apolitical. These incomplete
histories uphold the status quo by erasing the historical memory of change. Freud
experienced anti-Jewish racism. Critical race theory teaches us that in order to meet
their social, economic, and political needs, people in power decide who gets classi-
fied where and when in the racial hierarchy, and Jewish folks are no exception (Sue
et al., 2016). Jewish people that are not Black or Jewish non-Black people of color
have socially been most recently understood as White, but this has not been the case
across time and settings. Graves and Goodman (2021) recommended using the term
“anti-Jewish racism” instead of “antisemitism.” The category of Semitic people was
created by a German politician to replace the word Judenhass which meant “hatred.”
The idea was to normalize the hate by using the science of the day that placed
groups of people in a hierarchy. Of course, Jewish people were placed at the bottom.
A common pattern that arises when you make the invisible visible is how science
and law were consistently used to legitimize racism. Jewish people have been recip-
ients of hate from when Romans destroyed their temples, the Christian crusades in
1096, and their removal from Spain in 1492 and can still be seen today with the rise
of organized White supremacist groups. There is a long-standing history of anti-
Jewish hate, and Freud was most definitely shaped and impacted by it. He lived
through the Nazi persecution that murdered and displaced Jewish people in the early
1900s. Prior to the Holocaust, there were over 16 million Jewish people, and today,
after the Holocaust, there are less than 15 million. (Jr. & Goodman, 2021).
Sigmund Freud is known in the helping professions for the psychosexual stages
of development, psychodynamic, and psychoanalysis. He is not commonly known
for his political involvement as it is not usually taught. By not teaching it, we cannot
recover the lessons in these histories. The mental health practice that Freud pro-
moted was shaped by his political views as he was a social democrat. He believed
that everyone had a right to psychoanalysis and that an inability to pay for it should
not get in the way of that right. In 1918, he publicly urged psychoanalysts to embrace
these politics at the Fifth International Congress. In 1922, he supported the develop-
ment of Ambulatoriums and free mental health clinics for everyone. He would par-
ticipate in the provision of vouchers known as Erlagschein. These vouchers were a
promise to pay the receiving facility in monetary terms or time in which the
provider of the voucher would commit to working off the fees. (Danto, 2005) In
1930, in Vienna, mental health issues were viewed through a public health lens and
considered as important as other medical procedures. Institutions were created to
provide free treatment to poor folks in Vienna just as Freud had envisioned. Freud
still held these views when he was 70-years old, evident in his response to a friend
in London that would open a psychoanalytic clinic for under-resourced peo-
ple. Freud wrote, “Although absent from the opening of the Clinic tomorrow, I am
all with you and feel the importance of the day” (Danto, 2005, p. 168).
Danto (2005) describes the end of the free clinics in 1938. The Nazis took over;
their flag flew high, and the replacement and erasure of the present day’s psychoana-
lysts began to ensure the protection and survival of true Aryan men. All of Freud’s
work was to be locked up and replaced by the work of accepted authors. Terms were
replaced, such as psychoanalysis with developmental psychology, and the Freuds
and their friends would hide and eventually leave. Their politics, however, meant
that this group of people would resist, and they participated in anti-Nazi socialist
efforts that included driving people to borders, creating fake documentation for
travel, and hiding folks until they could leave. The point is that Freud was many
things that we are not taught. For example, we also know that he held anti-Black
racist views and cis-hetero-patriarchal views too.
The point I want to make is that the helping professions have socioeconomic-
political historical contexts that need to be recovered and made visible in our train-
ing and education so that we may extract the lessons they leave behind for our use
today. Freud’s story is not the only one. Erich Fromm was a Marxist; Karen Horney
was a social democrat; Edith Jacobson, who influenced the work of Otto Kernberg,
was a Communist; and the list goes on. (Dante, 2005) Freud’s story of book banning
and censorship, abortion prohibited in his time for the reproduction of Aryan men,
and the death of anyone legitimized through pseudoscience and legal systems reso-
nate with this woman of color, daughter of working-class political refugees living in
Miami, Florida in 2022.
earning Objectives for Us All: Critical

L
Consciousness-Raising and Recovering Historical Memory
The capability of banking education to minimize or annul the students’ creative power and
to stimulate their credulity serves the interests of the oppressors, who care neither to have
the world revealed nor to see it transformed. (Freire & Macedo, 2018, p. 73)
Freire highlights that instead of changing the unjust circumstances of the oppressed,
the dominant group asks the oppressed to cognitively adjust to their circumstances.
Helpers are replicating the “banking system” of education that they receive in their
academic programs when they ask the people they serve to cognitively accommo-
date the microaggressions, inequity, and oppression. The student is taught to be a
116 I. Delgado
passive spectator of the world, and psychology educates the client to do the same.
Many times, this is sadly done with the intention of helping.
Take the example of learning about IQ and intelligence without its history, politi-
cized context, and how it intersected with multiple forms of oppression. Now, pic-
ture a White educator with Black, White, and other students of color using science
to prove and justify the existing social order. The students take this in and spread it
back out to their clients. They are accepting these oppressive scripts about them-
selves and their communities. How smart is oppression that it teaches students from
marginalized communities in these academic programs to oppress themselves and
then they teach clients from marginalized communities to oppress themselves too?
We encourage critical consciousness-raising by using historical, intersectional,
and anti-oppressive lenses in our lesson planning. Students are provided with con-
textualized information so that they may not just learn about how we are perpetuat-
ing deficit narratives but may also act on it and disrupt it in their future practice.
Educators must constantly and as an ongoing practice invest time working on their
syllabi, lesson plans, reading selections, and prompts for discussions.
Liberation in social work and psychology has a long way to go. Whiteness has
been internalized and continues to show up in how we center and downright wor-
ship White culture, and no one is protected. Unchecked internalized oppression and
internalized Whiteness will even show up in folks working toward the decoloniza-
tion of the helping professions. Martin-Baro (1996) describes how even Paulo
Freire’s pedagogy of literacy has been depoliticized and offered as only psychologi-
cal categories. The building and rebuilding are ongoing, and we do this by raising
critical consciousness. We must interrogate long held beliefs that create barriers for
change. “This is how we do things.” “This is the way it is.” “Let us focus on the
present and go from there.” It is almost as if we could forget that what has always
been present is that things do, in fact, change. In the classroom, inviting the identi-
ties and lived experiences of the students to connect with the course content is a
form of countering this static, ahistorical narrative of the way things are. Martin-
Baro (1996) finds solutions in collective historical memories. In these histories,
people will find the tools of resistance that allowed for survival in the past, the tools
that allowed the survival of indigenous communities in the face of genocide, the
tools that allowed for the survival of communities of African descent in the face of
enslavement, and the tools that allowed the survival of exploitation, displacement,
and family separation to live in collective historical memories. The recovery of
these histories evokes the gifts that ancestors left behind, the strength in cultural
traditions, and the sense of pride and belonging that White supremacy, colonization,
and their legacies attempted to erase permanently.
Once these are recovered, a reconnection occurs, and the past can help us under-
stand the present. Recovering historical memory and critical consciousness-raising
as objectives in the classroom make for a praxis of transformation. It is crucial to
keep in mind that this learning is for both the students and educators, for both the
interns and supervisors. The anti-oppressive, antiracist helpers that seek liberation
will, without a doubt, through critical consciousness-raising and recovering histori-
cal memory, transform their realities as they will join those most impacted by
capitalism, White-supremacy, patriarchy, heteronormativity, and ableism. They will

find themselves challenging the systems that they have been benefiting from.
Liberation Health Model: Case Studies in Class
Perhaps most tragically, neoliberalism has undermined social work's long-standing ethical
foundations, compelling social workers to increasingly focus their practice with clients and
communities according to the logic of the market and the financial “bottom line.” (Martinez
& Fleck-Henderson, 2014)
BIPOC students are asked to conceptualize, assess, create a treatment plan, and
identify interventions without the historical context and the socioeconomic-political
and institutional factors that contribute to the presenting problems of their clients.
In my education and training, most of the cases were of Black and Brown folks
discussed through a deficit lens. What was wrong with them? What did they not
have? What cognitive distortions exacerbated their conditions? How are they not
pulling themselves up by their bootstraps, and how can we help them get there?
These are Black folks on drugs, Brown women with too many children needing
welfare, and immigrants that refused to learn English and adopt standards of
Whiteness to be successful.
Many times, I would zone out and do the work on autopilot. After all, I needed
to pass these courses to graduate. This went on for years. It was dehumanizing and
exhausting and did not teach me to work with BIPOC folks in my community. After
graduation, I learned to work with BIPOC from BIPOC folks themselves. I was also
not taught to tackle ongoing issues of White supremacy in the clinical setting.
Now, I use tools such as the Liberation Health Model to conceptualize cases in
the classroom, regardless of the course I am teaching. This tool not only helps with
organizational purposes, it also unveils. I tell the students that if we do not name it,
we cannot develop a treatment plan or an action plan for it. The Liberation Health
Model provides us with a conceptual tool that is holistic, empowering, critical, and
hopeful (Martinez & Fleck-Henderson, 2014). One of the central concepts of the
Liberation Health Model is concientizacion. Alberto Guerreiro Ramos, an Afro-
Brazilian sociologist born in 1915, was instrumental in defining concientizacao. His
lived experience and studies of psychoanalysis, existentialism, and decolonial theo-
ries shaped this definition. He developed Teatro Experimental do Negro, a therapy
to work through anti-Black racism and internalized oppression. (Gaztambide, 2019)
Paulo Freire learned from his work and had this to say:
“When I heard this word for the first time, I immediately realized the profundity of its
meaning,” Freire remembered, “Because I have the strong conviction that education, as
praxis of liberty, is knowledge action, that is, a critical approach to reality. From then on,
this word forms part of my lexicon.” (Gaztambide, 2019, p. 133)
Using the liberation health triangle when we discuss clients, we can think about all
the different factors contributing to the presenting problem, bridge the micro with
118 I. Delgado
the macro in our analysis, and collaborate with the client on the appropriate inter-
ventions. The triangle consists of the individual, cultural, and institutional factors of
the client’s presenting problem, which is placed in the middle of the triangle. The
students proceed to think with each other about the role that culture and institutions
play in the client’s presenting problem. They also brainstorm on what liberation-
based interventions to use to address all angles of the triangle and tackle the entirety
of the issues, including exploring the root causes.
Ending with an Offering: Class Activity
In this example, we review a case study in class using the liberation health model.
We discuss clients using intersectionality, anti-oppressive, neurodevelopmen-
tal, trauma-informed, and liberation health frameworks. For example, one of the
clients we discuss is a Guatemalan, indigenous, Brown woman that crossed the
border and endured trauma in her journey. We discuss racism and migration with a
focus on her experience as an Indigenous woman that was displaced twice- once in
her own land and then displaced to the United States. Hypothetically, students inter-
face with her because she is seeking mental health services. We use the triangle to
address the personal, cultural, and institutional factors and contribute to her present-
ing problem. Here is a small summary of what this conceptualization would include.
As a class, we discuss the individual level: traumatic (multiple types) experi-
ences prior to migration, during migration, and post migration, trauma symptoms,
isolation due to family separation, and grief, to name a few. At the cultural level, we
discuss cultural messaging that she is exposed to that may contribute to the present-
ing problem such as criminalizing border crossing, American exceptionalism, the
American dream, linguistic racism, dehumanization, anti-immigrant sentiments,
and anti-indigenous racism. At the institutional level, we discuss the legislation and
policies that are in place that contributes to the client’s presenting issue, for exam-
ple, the weaponizing of the landscape to reduce migration, cruel immigration poli-
cies and abusive policing that includes detainment and incarceration, lack of legal
representation, lack of universal healthcare, state sanctioned violence at the border,
linguistic racism across institutions, broken mental healthcare system that partici-
pates in mandated reporting and collaborates with law enforcement, and residing in
under-resourced and marginalized cities within the United States all were identified
to impact the client in this case. We also discuss these issues using historically
responsive texts that include the history of colonialism, civil wars (Cold War his-
tory), US interventions, imperialism, racist capitalism, and globalization efforts that
have led to family separations and displacement of people such as our Guatemalan
client. The exploitation of the people and their labor by the United States is named
and acknowledged. In this discussion, we also name the generational individual and
collective strengths that allowed for the client’s survival; many students forget the
Mayan people of Central America are still here and that they are not a monolith. The
students are rarely taught that this client comes from people that prior to
colonization had complex systems involving advanced mathematics, astronomy,

and agriculture. They had cities and languages and walked the very same lands that
now have been made unlivable and illegal for them to access. Once we are done
unveiling and recovering some of the stories, we proceed to discuss interventions
and we make sure to include liberation interventions that go beyond just the indi-
vidual needs of coping. Under interventions, we may list cognitive processing ther-
apy for trauma symptoms, group therapy for trauma survivors, peer support
groups, legal aid referrals for immigration-related needs with interpreters as needed,
community building activities, participation in local protests, and advocacy groups
that the client may want to join that will contribute to the efforts of transformation
and liberation.
References
Bernal, D. (2002). Critical race theory, Latino critical theory, and critical raced-gendered epis-
temologies: Recognizing students of color as holders and creators of knowledge. Qualitative
Inquiry, 8(1), 105–126.
Chomsky, A. (2022). Central America’s forgotten history: Revolution, violence, and the roots of
migration. Beacon Press.
Danto, E. A. (2005). Freud’s free clinics: Psychoanalysis and social justice, 1918–1938. Columbia
University Press.
Du Bois, W. E. B. (1920, July). Race intelligence:: W E B Du Bois.org. The Crisis, 20(3). http://
www.webdubois.org/dbRaceIntell.html
Freire, P., & Macedo, D. (2018). Pedagogy of the oppressed: 50th Anniversary Edition (4th ed.).
Bloomsbury Academic.
Gaztambide, D. J. (2019). A people’s history of psychoanalysis: From Freud to liberation psychol-
ogy. Lexington Books.
Givens, J. R. (2021). Fugitive pedagogy: Carter G. Woodson and the art of black teaching. Harvard
University Press.
Gould, S. J. (1996). The mismeasure of man (Revised and Expanded ed.). W. W. Norton &
Company.
Graves, J. L., Jr, & Goodman, A. H. (2021). Racism, not race: Answers to Frequently Asked
Questions. Columbia University Press.
Guthrie, R. (2003). Even the rat was white: A historical view of psychology (Allyn & Bacon
Classics Edition) (2nd ed.). Pearson.
Jr., J. G. L., & Goodman, A. H. (2021). Racism, not race: Answers to frequently asked questions.
Columbia University Press.
Jr., J. M. L., & Mendoza, R. H. (1984). Chicano psychology (2nd ed.). Academic.
June 20, 1979: ABC News correspondent shot dead in Nicaragua. (1979). ABC News. https://
abcnews.go.com/Archives/video/june-20-1979-abc-news-correspondent-shot-dead-56533140
Ladson-Billings, G. (2000). Racialized discourses and ethnic epistemologies. Handbook of
Qualitative Research, 2, 257–277.
Martí-N-Baró, I., Aron, A., Corne, S., & Mishler, E. G. (1996). Writings for a liberation psychol-
ogy (Reprint ed.). Harvard University Press.
Martinez, B. D., & Fleck-Henderson, A. (2014). Social justice in clinical practice: A liberation
health framework for social work (1st ed.). Routledge.
Morrison, T. (2001). How can values be taught in this university. Michigan Quarterly Review,
40(2), 277–294.
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Muhammad, G. (2020). Cultivating genius: An equity framework for culturally and historically
responsive literacy. Scholastic.
Ramirez, M., III. (1998). Multicultural/multiracial psychology: Mestizo perspectives in personal-
ity and mental health. Jason Aronson, Inc..
Sue, D. W., Rasheed, M. N., & Rasheed, J. M. (2016). Multicultural social work practice: A
competency-based approach to diversity and social justice. Wiley.
Washington, H. A. (2020). A terrible thing to waste: Environmental racism and its assault on the
American mind (Illustrated ed.). Little, Brown Spark.
Ivania Delgado, PsyD, MS, MSW, has over 15 years of teaching experience in higher education.
She is a core social work faculty member at Pacific Oaks College. Her pedagogy is grounded in
social justice, collaboration, and compassion. Before entering academia full-time, Dr. Delgado had
15 years of experience working with individuals, couples, families, and groups in both public and
private sectors in Miami-Dade County, providing trauma-informed mental health services. She is
a proud mother, partner, hija, and community member.
Education
Florida International University, BSW, MSW
Carlos Albizu University, MS in Psychology
Carlos Albizu University, Psy.D. Doctorate in Clinical Psychology
Psychology Postdoctoral Residency Program (APA accredited) at Citrus Health Network,
CHANCE program (HT/CSEC).
What Is Peace for Palestine/Indians Under
Israeli Settler Colonial Occupation?
Counterstory Imaginings of Peace Through
Transformational Resistance to Erasure
Bernardita M. Yunis (Varas) and Tiera Tanksley
Abbreviations
CRT critical race theory

PalestinianCRT Palestinian critical race theory
PFC Palestinian Feminist Collective
CCW Community Cultural Wealth
We have walked through fire through burning

infernos we have wept we have suffered
we call ourselves back we have survived we
have become stronger we call ourselves back
we have not lost any part of ourselves we are
not diminished we call ourselves back
we are whole.
~ Ire’ne Lara Silva
Poet, Friend, Hermanx1
After standing near the tomb of Yasser Arafat2, Palestine’s last great leader, we walked
around the tomb, passed a reflecting pool with a bright July sun shining down on us, and we
1
Thompson, Se’mana. 2020. “Liberation,” Cover of Queer Indigenous Girl, Volume 4 & “Roots,”
Cover of Black Indigenous Boy, Volume 2, 2020. http://read.dukeupress.edu/books/chapter-
pdf/811474/9781478012023-021.pdf
2
Yasser Arafat was chairman of the Palestine Liberation Organization from 1969 until his death in
2004. “From this post, he was at the forefront of years of violence, border disputes and the
B. M. Yunis (Varas) (*) · T. Tanksley

University of Colorado, Boulder, Boulder, CO, USA
e-mail: writetome@bernarditayunis.com; tiera.tanksley@colorado.edu
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-41965-2_7
122 B. M. Yunis (Varas) and T. Tanksley
entered the official Yasser Arafat Museum in Ramallah. As we walk up ramps that guide you
through four floors of the museum, you travel through Palestinian history. As a part of the
Palestinian diaspora, I was visiting Palestine for the very first time—a dream I never
expected to become a reality. Remembering my grandfather Saleh Yunis Sacaan was born
May 11, 1898 and migrated to Chile early in the 20th century, I sought out the information
around this time period. I arrived at the Balfour Declaration of 1917, a British document
that determined Palestinian history for the next hundred years.
Despite being born and raised in Chile, a country that celebrates its Palestinian dias-
pora, due to our migration story and the violences of colonialism, I do not know my history.
My family migrated at the turn of the century. I carry this name—Yunis—as common in
Palestine as Smith or Diaz in the Americas. And that’s it. My only connection. I want to
know more. I crave the connections to roots that have been denied to me by colonialism. So
this walk through this museum is a fervent journey of recovery, searching with each step for
the connections that are barely glimmering hints of threads right now. Who was Saleh? Who
were his siblings? Can I find a trace of him and his family here? Of my great grandparents
Solomon Ahués and Mercedes Sacaan?
Bernardita
Palestine for Palestinians in diaspora exists in the memory and enactments of cul-
tural traditions passed down from generations. This is due, in large part, to the
Israeli colonial project, which successfully reshaped and erased much of Palestine’s
borders, restricting its resources and surveilling its people through the expansion of
its settlements on Palestinian land. Palestinians’ existence is thus contingent upon
stories and traditions being handed down within and by way of diaspora. Our exis-
tence is also ignored, unacknowledged, and dismissed by the Global North through
forms of epistemic violence that pervade both society writ large and academia, in
particular. From discursive violences and omissions in history (e.g., not learning
about Palestine’s current and past existence and rich history), to racist misrepresen-
tations (e.g., stereotypical depictions of violent terrorists, or subhuman pests), to the
material violences that Palestinians experience in the homeland by Israel and its
policies, (e.g., being systematically disenfranchised, losing financial and academic
opportunities, and fearing for our safety), Palestinians worldwide face material, dis-
cursive, and epistemic violences that deeply impact our livelihoods as well as our
social, mental, and emotional wellbeing.
To think, talk, write, learn, and advocate about and for Palestine, then, we must
understand this issue of Palestinian existence “from below,” that is, from those
“below the vital ability of shaping the world according to their own vision” (Blaney
& Innayatullah, 2009, p. 663). Because Palestinians are often living “within the
theory and practice of a world, largely created by those ‘above,’ but also in worlds
partly defined by alternative visions that critique praxis ‘from above’,” we have
been systemically erased, silenced, and nearly completely destroyed” (Blaney &
Innayatullah, 2009, p. 663). Consequently, it is critical that we re-center our histo-
ries so that the hegemonic, imperial, master narratives begin to shift away from the
Palestinian liberation movement, all centering on neighboring Israel. Arafat signed a self-govern-
ing pact with Israel in 1991, at the Madrid Conference, and together with Israeli leaders made
several attempts at lasting peace soon after, notably through the Oslo Accords (1993) and the Camp
David Summit of 2000” (Biography.com. “Yasser Arafat Biography”).
What Is Peace for Palestine/Indians Under Israeli Settler Colonial Occupation… 123
colonizer and to those of us on the other side of the “colonial difference” (Mignolo,
March 2007). In grounding our work in Palestinian feminist epistemologies and
Critical Race Theory (CRT), we engage in the call to (re)center Palestine as a place
for enacting a critical, race-conscious, and justice-oriented feminist praxis that is
life affirming and that engages in a fight for anticolonial liberation of Palestinians
with fervent hope (Ihmoud, 2022; Joudah et al., 2021).
Engaging in Mignolo’s concept of delinking, this chapter actively challenges the
epistemic violence that Palestinians experience (as described above) and the colo-
nial erasure enacted by the Israeli settler state through our epistemic disobedience
of speaking from below—from the other side of colonial difference—through our
counterstories. Counterstorytelling is one way we operationalize PalestinianCRT3
to subvert colonial erasure, actively reclaiming and restoring our collective human-
ity and persistently challenging the colonial impetus to erase, fragment, and obscure
our stories, our community, and our very existence. We do this by positioning
Palestinian counternarratives of resilience, perseverance, and cultural preservation
as acts of transformational survivance that enable a community constantly facing
threats of ethnic apartheid and death to “do more than survive” (Love, 2019). When
analyzed through the lens of delinking and transformational resistance, Palestinian
narratives become counterstories told not only to defy death, silencing, and erasure
but also to catalyze the hope, healing, and futurity—to dream up a free, liberated
Palestine. In this way, PalestinianCRT enables us to “delink” from colonization
(Mignolo, March 2007) and showcases how Palestinians leverage storytelling to
understand, resist, and subsequently heal from the “herida abierta” of colonialism
(the open wound created by the colonial and imperial powers).
Grounded in CRT, Palestinian feminist epistemologies, decolonial theories, and
border thinking, the PalestinianCRT developed in this chapter engages with libera-
tion psychology to develop ideas for what peace means and can look like for
Palestinians as transformational survivance—defined as the critical nexus of sur-
vival and resistance (Vizenor, 2008)—in the face of colonial erasure. In their sur-
vival, resistance, and existence in diaspora and from within the confines of Israeli
settler-colonial powers in the homeland, Palestinian stories and traditions further
delink from the colonial matrix of power that attempts to erase Palestinians from
history, from the world map, and from today’s current narratives. More specifically,
this chapter offers PalestinianCRT as an onto-epistemological stance and theoretical
framework that understands the persistent survivance of Palestinians through joy-
ous, historically situated counterstorytelling as an act of transformational resistance
grounded in feminist hope and decolonial love.
In the following pages, we detail how the Israeli occupation is reified by a majori-
tarian story of white supremacy, anti-semitism, and colonization that fosters norms,
policies, and practices of violence, dehumanization, and erasure. We then showcase
how Palestinian counterstories of love, healing, collective resilience, and futurity
3
The various offshoots of Critical Race Theory are labeled like this. For example, BlackCRT,
QueerCRT, DisCRT, LatCRT and more.
serve as acts of transformational survivance to said colonial violence. Finally, we

will use these stories to delineate the principles of PalestinianCRT, which is rooted
in a Palestinian feminist and decolonial ethic of love.
nderstanding the Need for Counterstories: Palestine Under

U
Israel’s Colonial Project
The contested territory of Palestine exists in a constant state of uncertainty, where

dual actors lay claim to ancestral rights to the land. The Israeli colonial project, as a
hegemon in the region, has successfully reshaped and erased much of Palestine’s
borders and destroyed its ability to function as a sovereign nation through its con-
tinual restricting of resources, surveilling of its people, and expansion of its settle-
ments throughout Palestinian land (Bowler, 2016; Balfour Declaration, 1917).4
Supported by the British through the Balfour Declaration (drafted in 1922), the
ensuing 75 years of Israeli Occupation in Palestine present the majoritarian narra-
tives that shroud colonial violence and manifest norms, policies, and practices that
disenfranchise and dehumanize Palestinians. These circumstances present an oppor-
tunity to see how European Imperialism, an assumed Whiteness by Israel, and
enactments of settler colonialism are primary forces that established the painful,
violent circumstances that keep the Palestinian people displaced and disempowered
in their own land. Their project of ethnic apartheid, displacement, and erasure is
buttressed by Whiteness, power, and support of a worldwide community that sees
Israel as it presents itself and ignores the humanity of the Palestinian peoples.
4
The Balfour Declaration is a short letter sent from a British Zionist to a British Lord in the Foreign
Office. This short historical document has determined over a hundred years of territorial disputes
and near-complete genocide and displacement of Palestinians due to the settlement of Israelis in
the land of Palestine. The full text of the letter is copied here:
Foreign Office
November 2nd, 1917
Dear Lord Rothschild,
I have much pleasure in conveying to you, on behalf of this Majesty’s Government, the
following declaration of sympathy with Jewish Zionist aspirations which has been submitted to,
and approved by, the Cabinet.
“His Majesty’s Government view with favour the establishment in Palestine of a national
home for the Jewish people, and will use their best endeavors to facilitate the achievement
of this object, it being clearly understood that nothing shall be done which may prejudice
the civil and religious rights of existing non-Jewish communities in Palestine, or the rights
and political status enjoyed by Jews in any other country.”
I should be grateful if you would bring this declaration to the knowledge of the Zionist
Federation.
Yours sincerely,
Arthur James Balfour” (“Balfour Declaration 1917”).
Importantly, CRT counterstorytelling is then an act of (re)humanization, bringing

peace making and transformational survivance into the forefront.
As we continue to witness the violent contestation and occupation of Palestine
by Israel, we understand that the issues impacting Palestinians are not merely ter-
ritorial or a question of nationhood. Understanding how borders are being drawn
and redrawn under occupation, we can see how issues of Israel’s occupation of
Palestine like restricting its resources, illegally building settlements and displacing
its people, and making them refugees in their own land are life-denying issues that
can be directly challenged through Palestinian feminist epistemologies and Critical
Race Theory methodologies that create space for humanizing Palestinians. This is
why Palestinian counterstories matter. The Israeli occupation perpetuates constant
violations to the humanity and rights of the Palestinian people, and our countersto-
ries challenge our erasure by naming our existence and transformational survivance
despite powerful and successful efforts by Israel. Much like Cacho explains in
Social Death, the Israeli occupation of Palestine demonstrates one present-day
instance of “how human value is made intelligible through racialized, sexualized,
spatialised, and state-sanctioned violence” (2012, p. 4). Through the making and
remaking of Israeli settlement borders, Palestinian lands and peoples are made,
remade, and, more importantly, destroyed without their say. This process of erasure,
ethnic cleansing, and apartheid reverberates through the Palestinian diaspora, of
which my (Bernardita’s) family is a part.
Indeed, righting these colonial wrongs by writing5 (Barakat, 2018) countersto-
ries is a key motivation of a PalestinianCRT framework: it is Palestinians owning
our voice, claiming our space in academia, and telling our stories as we fight the
erasure of our lives and existence. This is the delinking from the colonial matrix of
power that is critical to further hope for an anticolonial future without Israeli settler
occupation where Palestinian lives are affirmed.
heoretical Frameworks: Critical Race Theory

T
and Palestinian Feminist Epistemology
Palestinian Feminist Epistemologies
As we craft a framework for furthering an anticolonial praxis towards liberation of

Palestine, we engage with Palestinian feminisms to guide our development. Without
a feminist lens, Ihmoud writes, “we are reinforcing exclusionary patriarchal knowl-
edge systems, histories, and ways of thinking about how colonization and resistance
operate, who the agents of resistance might be, where resistance takes place, and our
visions and strategies for decolonization” (2022, p. 284). So we heed the call that
5
In much the same fashion as Barakat’s essay, this chapter and PalestinianCRT as framework are
attempting to right the way the Palestinian story is told by writing Palestinian counterstories.
Palestinian feminist epistemologies present us and the “expansive vision for

Palestinian survivance, healing, and liberation in the face of ongoing genocidal vio-
lence waged against our communities, grounded in a praxis of decolonial love”
(Ihmoud, 2022, p. 284). Palestinian feminist epistemologies call us to engage in life
affirming work. Thus, it is critical to ground our PalestinianCRT framework here as
it “affirms life and our unity as a people, where Palestine is embodied regardless of
where we may live–in the homeland or the shataat” (Ihmoud, 2022, p. 285). Like
the work of the Palestinian Feminist Collective (PFC) (2021), PalestinianCRT
engages with Palestinian feminism and decolonial love, this work must espouse
“life-affirming principles and practices that are rooted in transformative justice,
healing, and creation.” As noted, this work learns and grows from “past and present
Palestinian, Arab, Black, Indigenous, and Third World feminist movements, thought
and practice [and] advances Palestinian feminism as a liberatory philosophy and
practice necessary to create the world we want to live in” (Palestinian Feminist
Collective, n.d.).
Like the work of the PFC, PalestinianCRT embraces an anticolonial approach
that centers “the political urgency of the Palestinian struggle[, resisting] the normal-
ization of Zionist violence, oppression, and hegemony in all aspects of public and
private life, including within feminist spaces” (Palestinian Feminist Collective,
n.d.). As Ihmoud delineates,
a Palestinian feminist analytics allows us to hold our vision of liberation as inclusive, dia-
sporic and transnational, while at the same time maintaining the centrality of our relation-
ship to the homeland. In calling up the force of return, we refer to the process of mapping a
diasporic and transnational Palestinian feminist epistemology through bringing together an
archive of Palestinian feminist rebellion, one rooted in our histories in the homeland and the
still expanding boundaries of shataat as the anchor for reimagining both Palestinian libera-
tion and a future Palestine. (2022, p. 286)
Women-of-color feminisms have called us to name how the female body is racial-
ized, thinking outside of a Whiteness structure and White-body supremacy
(Menakem, 2017). Palestinian feminist epistemologies further these calls so we
challenge the disembodied nature of our academic spheres, inviting, as we see so
much of CRT do, a connection to narrative, to story, and as Indigenous theories
remind us, to our bodies and our land. Ihmoud then asks, “How might centering
these corporeal realities as a form of embodied pedagogy, making the material body
the ‘ground of thought’ (Anzaldúa, 2015, p. 5) in our praxis of activist research,
change the kinds of questions that we pose, the methods we pursue, and the scholar-
ship we produce?” (2017, p. 550). In these questions, we find the guidance to build
our framework of PalestinianCRT, grounding in embodied praxis, in counterstory,
our transformational resistance.
Critical Race Theory
Critical Race Theory, which began within legal studies, develops a “race-based
epistemology” that allows us to critically situate conversations about colonialism,
migration, diaspora, and Palestine (Harris et al., 2015, p. 21). By situating this work
within the tenets of CRT, these conversations participate in broader arguments about
racialization, colonialism, and violence of the past and of today. Thus, CRT offers
epistemological ruptures that can shed light on epistemic and colonial violence, in
general, and related to Palestine, in particular. In writing this, we make this work a
critical intervention that tackles the broader systems of violence that organize our
societies and, in particular, the Israeli settler state (Ladson-Billings, 2013,
pp. 36–37). CRT presents us with the opportunity for our writing to do something
itself and not just merely navel gaze. As a framework, it guides us to see how the
issues we are studying can be addressed meaningfully and materially in academia.
Our work as CRT scholars can make change and be itself its own form of activism
changing its environment.
CRT scholars, then, work towards social justice by challenging dominant narra-
tives and re-centering marginalized perspectives (Howard & Reynolds, 2013,
p. 234). This is done by elevating counterstories, defined here as oral traditions,
dichos, and the Palestinian practice of al-hakawati, which opens up possibilities for
the interdisciplinarity of CRT (Howard & Reynolds, 2013, p. 234; Yosso et al.,
2009, p. 663). In understanding these foundational pillars of CRT, the counterstories
we offer in this paper can be clearly defined as a project of transformative surviv-
ance that participates in a political project of rehumanization, reclamation, visibil-
ity, and decolonial love (Salaita, 2017; Tabar & Desai, 2017).
In elevating experiential knowledge and voice, like counterstorytelling, CRT and
our framework are a form of resistance that serve to expose, analyze, and challenge
majoritarian stories (Ladson-Billings, 2013; Solórzano & Yosso, 2001; Martinez,
2020). Our work in this chapter names PalestinianCRT as a framework that under-
stands Palestinians survivance and counterstorytelling as projects of transforma-
tional resistance. Other scholars have engaged in this practice to use
“counterstorytelling [as a] powerful mode of promoting epistemic justice by
reclaiming the “permission to narrate” (Dutta, Azad & Hussain, 2021; Said, 1984)”
(Atallah et al., 2022, p. 684). As Atallah et al. (2022) write, this practice of counter-
storytelling that we espouse in PalestinianCRT promotes our “becom[ing] embod-
ied in our work together of linking our stories, spaces, lands, waters, trees, spiritual/
ancestral wisdoms, and so much more” (p. 686). Counterstorytelling, thus, is a form
of transformational resistance to the violences of colonialism. As they write, “We
may have been removed, separated, and condemned by colonialism, but we nurture
one another as we find our way back into the stories, remedies, and wholeness that
bring us home” (Atallah et al., 2022, p. 686). We build collectives that continue our
survivance, transforming our existences from attempted erasure to flourishing
collectives.
Since Palestine has existed under colonial strangulation by the Israeli occupation
since 1948 and for centuries from prior colonizers, from the Ottomans to the British,
narratives of our existence as diasporic and indigenous Palestinians are critical
because they directly counter the narratives of the colonizer. These counterstories
and the Palestinian practice of al-hakawati keep Palestinian stories alive, challeng-
ing the settler-colonial project that continues its efforts to erase Palestinians from
their land and their narratives from history. This is particularly critical when we
understand CRT as a framework broadly that aims to disrupt the apartheid of knowl-
edge in academia (Pérez Huber, 2009; Delgado Bernal & Villalpando, 2002).
Naming this framework allows us to solidify a place in academia for a community
constantly fighting erasure worldwide and within Palestinian territory.
PalestinianCRT empowers us to specifically address the apartheid of knowledge in
academia that is so violently present in the production of knowledge in the home-
land because of Israel’s restrictions and surveillance of Palestinians and Palestinian
higher education in Israel, the West Bank, and in the United States as
well (Salaita, 2015).
alestinian Counterstories: Centering Culture, Peace,

P
Memory Keeping, and Futurity
In this section, we offer three first-person vignettes that exemplify the transforma-
tive power of counterstories. In particular, the three stories shared below showcase
how Palestinian counterstorytelling within and across the diaspora accomplishes
three features of transformative survivance: (1) resisting erasure in diaspora, con-
necting to the homeland; (2) passing down our stories, which resist colonial border
violence; and (3) building peace through connection to community love.
COUNTERSTORY ONE: Resisting Erasure in Diaspora, Connecting to the
Homeland
I [Bernardita] am Chilena, Palestina, and American. Born in 1985 in Chile, I grew up Latin
American. By 1996, I moved to Miami, Florida, and absorbed Latino culture. Yet in 2019, I
got to visit for the first time the land of my father’s family where my grandfather was born
and four of my great-grandparents birthed our family. In all my years, I never thought, nor
even imagined, I ever would set foot in the Middle East. And yet as I crossed the Jordan-
Palestine border that July 2019, getting through the arbitrarily set up Israeli immigration
security checkpoint, and we drove into my family’s homeland, I felt in every inch of my body
and every pore of my skin that this was a homecoming.
While my memory is blurry and spotty, I now know well that the environment in which I
grew up in Chile was different. We wore both red, white, and blue Chilean gear, and red,
green, and black Palestinian gear. My father and brothers rooted for the Palestino soccer
team in Chile, a national team sponsored by the Bank of Palestine, while my mom, sisters,
and I rooted for La Chile. My mother learned to make mahkshi and warak di wali from my
Abuelita Olga, her mother-in-law whose parents were born in Bethlehem (like her hus-
band—my grandfather—had). My grandma and I would play bas’ra in the little table by the
window in her dining room. She would make baklava and aristlo, rosto rus, and bamie. My
father taught us Arabic curse words, and I loved to hear stories about the grandfather I
never met who was born in the same town as Jesus.
These experiences of existing both as Chileans and Palestinians were our resistance.
While majoritarian cultures expect migrants, refugees, and those of diaspora to
assimilate to the broader community they are making a home in, Palestinians resist
this erasure. Not only do they resist it, but as I (Bernardita) study in my dissertation,
we bring the host culture into a deep appreciation for ours, sharing our cultural arti-
facts and inviting them to celebrate us. Not only do we survive in the diaspora,
through migration caused by imperial displacement, we build anew, demonstrating
a powerful resilience against erasure and inviting love and appreciation of who we
are and what we bring to our host country.
Because of this powerful reimagining of Palestinian identity in diaspora, future
generations like me (Bernardita), who are second-generation Chileans, can return to
the homeland of Palestine. When we do, we connect so deeply with the land and its
people that in the very essence of our being, we understand this is a return and not
merely a tourist visit.
Our ability to remake, extend, and blur the colonial borders of Palestine into
Chile and across the diaspora speaks explicitly to the power of counterstories to
produce transformative survivance. Rather than simply survive colonial erasure, we
used stories to thrive—to build new worlds and Palestinian futures where peace was
not only imagined, it was a lived reality. Through counter storytelling and commu-
nal memory keeping, we were able to subvert and redesign Palestinian borders in
ways that actively disrupted the colonial logics of erasure and fragmentation.
COUNTERSTORY TWO: Our Stories Passed Down Resist Colonial Border
Violence
We arrived at the Israeli checkpoint, where they took our passports and proceeded to make
us wait for four hours. They questioned me about my grandfather—an odd practice for
many reasons, but in particular because nobody ever asks me so much about him without
me offering information about him first. It was as if they already knew all about him on their
computers as they clicked away on their keyboards, barely glancing at my eyes as they
questioned my only link to my Palestinian heritage. We were finally allowed in. We crossed
the bridge into Palestine and all of us, each of us, fell into silence as we watched the rolling
hills of the West Bank flood our eyes. Each in our own row, faces glued to windows that
could not provide enough sights of this land I had only ever imagined before.
Time went on and we rolled through arid mountains that contained the histories and
beginnings of so many generations, cultures, and even religions. But all I could think of
was, this is where my ancestors lived. The grandfather I have been so curious about for all
my 34 years. My great grandparents I never met but heard so many stories about. The land
that created my entire Yunis Ahués family. My Abuelita’s name may have been Olga Ana
Violeta Blanca, but her last names Ahués Abukalil were birthed here. My grandfather, Saleh
Yunis Sacaan, was birthed from this land. I am reminded of words from my graduate
courses where we discuss how the past does not exist in the past away from you, but it is
present. And it was. I came to Palestine hoping to find connection with my grandfather. In
those moments, overwhelmed by the power of our presence, tears flooded my eyes and I was
overcome with a newfound feeling I had not experienced so powerfully before. In the hours
after our arrival, I would find a word for it in the words of the Palestinians I
met—homecoming.
My story of homecoming—despite having direct, firsthand connections to Palestine

before my arrival in 2019—exemplified the power of counterstorytelling as transfor-
mative survivance. My family passed down, through stories, traditions, and cultural
practices, our Palestinian identity so powerfully that it was embedded into my mem-
ory, body, and heart. While Israeli officials pushed efforts to intimidate us with the
long wait and personal questions about my family and ancestors, these only solidi-
fied my own understanding that I belonged here, like I had never belonged before.
My last name was legible to this Israeli official in a way that it never had made sense
in Chile or the United States. For the first time in my life, despite his efforts to make
me feel unwelcomed, I saw my roots coming forward to connect me to this land.
The grandfather I never got to meet, in that moment, reminded me that this land is
my home, from where I came and to where I can go.
Sandoval writes of “the ‘mestiza consciousness’ described under US Third
World feminism, which, as Anzaldúa explains, arises ‘on borders and in margins’
where feminists of color keep ‘intact shifting and multiple identities’ with ‘integ-
rity’ and ‘love’” (2000, p. 168). While Anzaldúa writes of the mestizaje that lives in
the borderlands of the United States and Mexico, engaging with these frameworks
of decoloniality is critical as Palestinian bodies are also “raced” and now exist in
settler colonial borderlands created by Israel (2015, p. 65). Like my experience at
the border checkpoint, Palestinians are raced in order to be dehumanized by Israeli
officials in multiple ways. Checkpoints like this one and the ones throughout occu-
pied lines perform these very violences of making indigenous Palestinians foreign-
ers in their own land.
Anzaldúa writes, “My body is raced; I can’t escape that reality, can’t control how
other people perceive me, can’t de-race, e-race my body, or the reality of its raced-
ness” (2015, p. 65). Much like people of color in the United States, Palestinians in
Palestine and the occupied territories called Israel have been raced in order to be
treated as less than, creating the rationale for their mistreatment. Marked as I was
with a last name like Yunis, a clearly Arab name originating from land within the
West Bank and occupied Palestine, Israeli officials needed to put me in my place.
Palestinians cannot escape the racialization imposed on us by Israel on our bodies
and our lands and homes. Yet through these counterstories, I can dismantle their
efforts to make me less for this connection. Instead, it links me further to the ances-
tors they attempted to destroy. As Allegranti writes, “we carry our ancestral, genetic
line, other bodies, other stories, in our body” (2014, p. 62). The connection is mate-
rially built into our bodies.
Like Smith explains about indigenous folks, “for most of the past 500 years the
indigenous peoples’ project has had one major priority: survival” (2012, p. 111,
original emphasis). This survival is an all too familiar effort for Palestinians who
have been constantly colonized for hundreds of years. In her germinal work on
Decolonizing Methodologies, Smith tells us that “There are numerous oral stories
which tell of what it means, what it feels like, to be present while your history is
erased before your eyes, dismissed as irrelevant, ignored or rendered as the lunatic
ravings of drunken old people” (2012, pp. 30–31). As products of these efforts of
erasure and whitewashing, we tell counterstories to reclaim the histories and
lineages that colonialism and imperialism attempted to—and arguably succeeded

in—taking away from colonized and diasporic peoples. In telling this story of the
Israeli checkpoint official, I do not deny my connections to Palestine, but feel them
ever more strongly.
As my experience at the borders of Palestine shows, counterstories enable us to
exist and resist in ways that “burst[]” the self into a “re-formation” and “conver-
sion,” as part of a “place of crossing, of transition and metamorphosis” outside of
and against the colonial forces (Sandoval, 2000, p. 130, 131). We actively fight
erasure, bursting through their colonial power, and reclaiming a land, an identity,
and a history that belongs to us.
COUNTERSTORY THREE: Building Peace Through Connection to
Community Love
We are not visiting.
We are coming home.
We are the lost cousins, sisters…
Coming together.
Coming home.
While my gut wants me to feel like a fraud because I speak about three words of Arabic
total, these folks see me and embrace me fully. We are family. And in their sassiness and
oh-so-loud personalities, I find myself at home in a way I have never felt belonging before.
I don’t speak the language and they don’t speak English or Spanish, but we connect and
communicate somehow, and hug and kiss and laugh and dance, and carry the histories of
my family and their family as one.
Suddenly, I find so much of what raised me in strangers that are not strangers at all.
Journal Reflections, Bernardita M. Yunis Varas, July 2019
My family’s ability to subvert, extend, and reconfigure the borders implemented by

Israeli occupation speaks to Soja’s engagement with Anzaldúa’s borderland theory
in Thirdspace (1996). Soja’s work acknowledges how there are “lived spaces, meta-
phorical and material, real and imagined, contested and loving, dangerous and play-
ful, local and global, knowable and incomplete, necessary for survival yet often still
‘up in the air’...intimate and comforting at the same time” (Soja, 1996, p. 131).
These connections demonstrate the way space and place have been theorized as not
mere “topographic categories” but rather “spatialised social practices and relations,
and social power” (Massey, 2005, p. 166). The borderlands that birthed me
(Bernardita) are not necessarily a physical space, yet they are real and materially
shape my existence, that of my family, other Palestinians in diaspora, other immi-
grant communities, and more. These borderlands exist as the Palestinian commu-
nity in Chile, its transfer of Palestinian identity, pride, and culture, which then
carries me safely through borders into Palestine. And these borderlands are, like the
spaces and places described here, quite clearly the changing borders of the Israeli
settler state and Palestine, directly shaped by power. Our stories and memories
change borders by not abiding by the maps currently drawn by those in power.
That’s how we speak back. Community Cultural Wealth (CCW) in CRT (Yosso,
2005) similarly speaks to social relations and power. CCW names these lived spaces
of social capital as critical to challenging the deficit narratives created by dominant

groups (Yosso & Burciaga, 2016, p. 2). While to Israel its arbitrarily created borders
and checkpoints attempt to keep us out, the borderlands created through CCW by
Palestinians in diaspora bridge the distance so that when we arrive, we are wel-
comed home. We may not speak the languages, but our ethic of decolonial love
moves beyond those colonial logics of division and erasure. We connect because of
the ancestral knowledge that pulls us together, which lives in our collective memory,
carried in our bodies.
Our work here is guided by decolonial moves and anticolonial theories that
remind us how to exist and resist in ways that “burst” the self into a “re-formation”
and “conversion,” as part of a “place of crossing, of transition and metamorphosis”
outside of and against the colonial forces—we are fighting the erasure, bursting
through their colonial power (Sandoval, 2000, p. 130, 131). Their effort to keep me
out only solidified my connection and belonging to this land. The inherent praxis of
decolonial love that exists at the heart of Palestinians (in the homeland and in dias-
pora), having had to learn to love ourselves and each other and our culture as we
exist outside of acceptance in the world community, allowed us to connect on a
deeper level than a common language. They saw in me a Palestinian forced to exist
outside of my homeland and welcomed me openly to celebrate all that we are.
It is in the telling and retelling of this story—one that literally exists on the mar-
gins of history, as an afterthought, and the inconvenient details that pierce the mas-
ter narratives the white men in power want to tell—that we participate in a resistance
of the Israeli white-supremacist, colonial ideals that attempt to displace us and keep
us out. This decolonial lens removes colonial impacts and arrives at the truths of
being indigenous to Palestine. It helps us to create our framework of PalestinianCRT
as a decolonial project, lifting the veil of whitewashed histories, and names the
existence of Palestinians in the homeland and in diaspora because we have lived it,
we exist, we have seen ourselves in each other, and we cannot be erased.
Principles of PalestinianCRT
Using the aforementioned counterstories as a point of entry, we delineate the prin-

ciples that guide our PalestinianCRT framework. By augmenting CRT with a
Palestinian feminist epistemology, we offer the following tenets:
1. The intercentricity and intersectionality of race and racism: CRT acknowledges
that race and racism are pervasive and permanent and that the form, function, and
severity of racial domination is necessarily mediated by interconnected, mutu-
ally constructing systems of power of race, class, gender, immigration status, and
nationality to name a few. Because it is grounded in Palestinian feminist episte-
mologies, PalestinianCRT is intersectional and gives us a vision for Palestinian
survivance, healing, and liberation that dismantles the cisheteropatriarchal vio-
lences espoused by the Israeli settler state and even scaffolded by patriarchal
systems within Palestinian spaces.
2. The challenge to dominant ideology (Yosso et al., p. 663): CRT argues that
claims to objectivity, meritocracy, and more are camouflaged self-interest and
power, evident in the way the Israeli state controls the narrative and access of
knowledge production for Palestinians. When viewed through a PalestinianCRT,
we can understand the development of a settler-colonial state via Israeli
occupation as a pervasive and permanent manifestation of white supremacy and
colonialism made possible through a dominant narrative of racial, economic, and
religious superiority. Understanding the importance of Palestinians’ community
cultural wealth as enacted through their cultural traditions, celebrations, and sur-
vivance both in the homeland and as it has been carried through the shataat
(diaspora) is one way PalestinianCRT disrupts majoritarian narratives that posi-
tion us Palestinians as racially and culturally inferior and thus deserving of colo-
nial erasure and extermination.
3. A commitment to social justice: CRT envisions social justice as the struggle to
eliminate racism and subordination, demonstrating a clear connection with
Palestinian struggles for liberation. A PalestinianCRT would mean engaging in a
strong decolonial praxis and anticolonial project to dismantle the racialized vio-
lence of the Israeli settler colonial state and its genocidal efforts to erase and
remove Palestinians from existence and history.
4. The centrality of experiential knowledge: CRT names that experiential knowl-
edge is not only legitimate but critical to understanding racial subordination;
thus, it prioritizes such embodied methods, the way Palestinians do and enact
their survivance through narrative and storytelling. Thus, a PalestinianCRT
embraces an embodied praxis of transformational resistance that invites, cele-
brates, and prioritizes Palestinian storytelling and narratives, counterstories, and
other challenges to the dominant settler colonial state of Israel.
5. The interdisciplinary perspective: CRT challenges mainstream analyses that
encourage silos by instead drawing its strength from multiple disciplines, episte-
mologies, and research approaches. Just as CRT draws from legal studies in its
explication of Whiteness as Property (Harris, 1993) and Interest Convergence,
so too does a PalestinianCRT use these legal frameworks to explain how Israel
functions as an apparatus of white supremacy, using Palestinians’ own existence
as a way to explain their own superiority through the legally enshrined racializa-
tion, Othering, and dehumanization of Palestine’s people (Erakat, 2015).
Importantly, PalestinianCRT does not attempt to replace CRT; rather, it adds spe-
cific nuances to the Palestinian experience, providing a theoretical space that can
empower our anticolonial moves towards liberation for Palestine and Palestinians
worldwide. As noted, a PalestinianCRT framework allows us to see Palestinian nar-
ratives as critically important counterstories enacting transformational resistance to
defy death, silencing, and erasure and catalyze hope, healing, and futurity. Our
PalestinianCRT framework enables us, then, to envision how Palestinians leverage
storytelling and al-hakawati to understand, resist, and subsequently heal from the
herida abierta of colonialism.
PalestinianCRT as an onto-epistemological framework is a journey of hope and
healing through a decolonial praxis that aims to do justice to the histories and lives
of my (Bernardita’s) diasporic Palestinian Chilean family as well as the millions of
other Palestinians in the shataat and the homeland currently surviving the occupa-
tion. Ultimately, my own onto-epistemological understanding as a Chilena Palestina
participates in the call from PalestinianCRT by telling stories of my experiences as
a Palestinian in diaspora and in traveling to my homeland for the first time ever in
2019. These Palestinian narratives of resilience to ethnic apartheid and Israel’s
genocidal project are critical to fight the colonial erasure (which proves so success-
ful here in the United States). Since Palestine exists under a project of strangulation
by the Israeli government since 1948, these narratives of my existence as a diasporic
Palestinian, of visiting the land, become that much more important. They are retell-
ings that keep these stories alive, challenging the settler colonial project that
attempts to (and is successful in part at) erasing Palestine altogether.
Kim writes that engaging with Anzaldúa’s El Mundo Zurdo, this work “enacts
[a]…poetics of survival” (2017, n.p.). Further, my work on narrating these journeys
and speaking these stories of migration and diaspora into permanence participate in
what Anzaldúa describes as writing to survive: “I write to record what others erase
when I speak, to rewrite the stories others have miswritten about me, about you”
(1987, p. 169). Mine is a singular story, yet it represents that of millions. In fact, as
Palestinians told us when we traveled through the cities in our homeland, “We are
exactly half of the Palestinian people. 6.5 million live inside Palestine. 6.5 million
live in diaspora” (Yunis Varas, personal reflections from travel journal, July 14,
2019). The borders I inhabit are many, and none leave me at any point of my existence,
no matter where I place my body.
Conclusion: Peace for Palestinians
The dancing, the food, the love—Palestinians are pure magic. A magical display of resil-
ience and continued resurgence. The settler colonial state occupying this territory contin-
ues to displace and attempt to erase us, but our people continue to dance and celebrate our
culture. The dabke, the markets, the foods, the festival. We got to see it all. The Palestinian
people cannot be destroyed. We flourish despite our humanity constantly being questioned
or denied. This is our embodied resistance—our “survivance” (Moreton-Robinson, 2015;
Vizenor, 2008).
So what is Peace for Palestinians then? I find the answer in PalestinianCRT as a

response to Mignolo’s work. The Argentinian philosopher Mignolo names the con-
nections between coloniality, modernity, capitalism, and decoloniality (Mignolo,
2011a). He writes that modernity cannot be divorced from coloniality (Mignolo,
2011b). The darker side of modernity is built on the logic of coloniality, he tells us
(Mignolo, 2011a). Thus, modernity, progress, civilization, and the capitalist project
are actually part of the imperial designs of coloniality. Capitalism and the global
economy of today, then, are part of the “colonial matrix of power” that are new
versions of colonial projects reinventing themselves into new forms of dehumaniza-

tion, dispensability of human life, and power imbalances (Mignolo, Fall 2011c).
So, when we are thinking about peace for Palestinians, we name the connections
to Mignolo’s conceptions of delinking because seeing things from and through a
border thinking perspective allows us to see how peace means existing on the
borderlands without sacrifice our true ancestral connection. It engages in the epis-
temic disobedience that allows our work to take many shapes and our existence to
be formed through our experience. Peace for Palestinians is our joyful survivance
and being written into histories and contemporary worldmaking. As Mignolo tells
us, we make visible the “body-politics of knowledge,” affirm bodies of knowledge
that have been denied, and see through border thinking (2007, p. 463). This work,
then, is critical for developing what Mignolo calls the “decolonial options” (2011c).
Mignolo envisions how the colonial project is ending and what comes next is what
we are developing here.
We resist. We persist. We remain.
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Postcolonial Legacies of Conflict:
Educational Language Policies
and Resource Exploitation
Munjeera Jefford, Achille Fossi, and Eric Keunne
Abbreviations
B & B Commission Bilingualism and Bicultural Policy

FLQ Front de libération du Quebec
USSR Union of Soviet Socialist Republics
CACSC Cameroon Anglophone Civil Society Consortium
CDC Cameroon Development Corporation
OGTR Operation Ghost Town Resistance
Introduction
The crux of language conflict today is based on the global rise of English hegemony.
As the goal that “the sun would never set on the British empire” was achieved, the
language of the English colonizer gained dominance over competing conquests
among the French, Spanish, Dutch, and Portuguese. Many postcolonial countries
eventually succumbed to accepting English as the international lingua franca, due
to pressure from economic interests that speaking the language of the colonizer was
the main pathway to national success after gaining independence. The education
system remains a powerful force in reproducing neocolonialism that results in
devaluing mother tongues. Freire (1970) notes that the education system is based on
a banking model that assumes students do not come to school with capital. Instead,
the teacher is seen as having valuable knowledge that will be deposited in the stu-
dents’ minds. Increasingly, teachers who can teach subjects in English are valued
M. Jefford (*) · E. Keunne

York University, Toronto, ON, Canada
e-mail: munjeera@yorku.ca; keunne81@yorku.ca
A. Fossi
University of Yaounde I, Toronto, ON, Canada
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-41965-2_8
140 M. Jefford et al.
worldwide (Jefford, 2021). Educational policies in formerly colonized countries are

an important part of the decolonization process that requires further study in many
areas, including language learning. Attempting to preserve local languages would
be an effective policy strategy for dealing with linguistic genocide, past and present.
Examining the case of Cameroon with references to India, Canada, and the Baltic
States reveals intersecting themes of postcolonial linguistic legacies such as a his-
tory of resource exploitation, parental concerns for a globally competitive educa-
tion, and the potential for violent insurgencies that can erupt in a matrix of conflicting
interests.
A Cameroonian Language Journey
I grew up in the 1980s in a French-speaking family in the English-speaking part of

Northwest Cameroon, where I attended school until the age of 15. The lingua franca
for most of the population was Pidgin-English and Limbum, a grassfield language
of Northwest Region, Cameroon in the Donga Mantung Division, used in public for
business in town. In a newly independent Cameroon (1960), my parents were not
fortunate enough to be educated beyond the elementary level and consequently
believed the only way for their children to be upwardly mobile was to learn and
speak the language of the British and French colonizers. Epistemologies are associ-
ated with geopolitical history (Bhambra, 2014), and schools that teach Cameroonian
children to learn and excel specifically in English are perceived as status symbols of
modernism, knowledge, and wisdom. Because Limbum, as well as many other dia-
lects, were spoken in private at home, little effort was made to support my siblings
and me to learn our mother tongue. Consequently, parental attention focused on
English and French test results from school. Furthering the postcolonial legacy of
linguistic oppression to help us gain proficiency, my dad asked us to write letters in
English from a young age to family members all over Cameroon, subordinating the
opportunity to express ourselves in our mother tongue. Eventually, the language
barrier isolated us from extended familial connections over three generations well
after Independence.
Once I achieved some academic gains in my early 20s, after being accepted into
my first year of Teacher Education in Cameroon, my parents began advocating for
me to recover learning Nguiembon (one of the Bamileke languages spoken in the
Bamboutos division in the West Region of Cameroon), which I eventually did and
was able to reconnect with my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. My fami-
ly’s experiences reflect most Cameroonian parents’ perspectives. Today, I share my
parents’ views that to continue to be upwardly mobile in a dynamic global village,
Cameroonian children, including my own, should learn English as a first language
and possibly French as a second language. Language education reflects the normal
desire for parents, as primary stakeholders in education, to provide the most aca-
demically competitive education possible to ensure their children’s future financial
security.
Postcolonial Legacies of Conflict: Educational Language Policies and Resource… 141
My Father’s Mother Tongue Story
When I came to Canada from India, I was trilingual, speaking Urdu, Telugu, and
English. Both my parents had grown up in Christian homes and had contact with
Western missionaries. In fact, my mom’s hometown had so many Canadian Baptist
missionaries that the small fishing village was eventually renamed “Co-Canada,”
referred to locally as “Kakinada” in the province of Andhra Pradesh. My mom was
a pastor’s daughter who lived beside the church compound that housed four mis-
sionaries and visiting church dignitaries where she learned to speak English seated
at the feet of her Sunday School teachers. As a result, her Canadian accent was
strong. My dad’s family lived in a huge bustling city on a spacious compound where
Wesleyan Methodists resided, but they did not interact very often with Western
church leaders. Even though my dad studied in an English medium school, his pro-
nunciation reflected his status as a second language speaker.
As a newly certified teacher, my dad was determined to speak with a Canadian
accent. He had researched how children had the potential to sound like Native
speakers when they learned languages at a young age. Always the strategist, he
made a deal with my mom. She would continue to speak to me in Telugu to keep our
linguistic heritage alive, while he imitated my childish tongue that was quick to
grasp the nuances of the highly desired Canadian English. One day when my mom
picked me up from school, the principal heard my mom directing me in Telugu.
“No” said Mr. Runkey loudly and firmly, “English only!” After that, Telugu was
relegated to the private sphere of our apartment except for boisterous social gather-
ings with other Telugu Christians at Christmas. My parents strongly believed that if
we spoke articulately with a Canadian accent, we would not experience racism in
Canada. We read voraciously and consumed a steady diet of Western pop culture
and news. If we sounded Canadian enough, my parents reasoned we would eventu-
ally be accepted as Canadians.
Despite their optimism, I soon realized that even though I sounded Canadian, I
did not look Canadian enough. We continued to experience racism daily against the
backdrop of rising tensions amid separatist movements culminating in the 1985 Air
India bombing in Canada, known as the deadliest terrorist attack in the air until
9/11. While my dad retained his rosy outlook, I became increasingly cynical and
despaired of ever truly feeling like I belonged in Canada. Seeking revenge from
condescending conversations where people would assume my family was poor,
ignorant, and caste oriented, I would often point out to Canadians that America was
much better than Canada. “I wish I were American,” I would say passive aggres-
sively. My strategy was successful at gaining better treatment. Indeed, my racialized
friends who had started off playing the game and touting Canada as a mecca of
social justice soon realized that people disliked hearing criticisms of their multicul-
tural nation. My expertise in “Canadianese” was finally paying off in more respect-
ful verbal interactions.
After 10 years when we were established in Canada, we went back to visit India.
In my mom’s hometown, everyone marveled that my mom “was exactly the same.”
Perceived as a huge compliment, my mom glowed with happiness that she was the
same simple China Pappa, baby girl in Telugu, she always had been. It was a differ-
ent story in Hyderabad where my dad was considered a Bhaiya, an affectionate
respectful term in Urdu, for an older brother. As my dad approached a store owner,
he opened his mouth to request his purchase in Telugu, to which the shopkeeper
immediately interrupted, “Oh, you’re a foreigner!” My dad had assimilated so well,
he spoke his mother tongue with a Canadian accent, demonstrating the importance
of language in the loss of cultural identity. Putting his hand on his heart, “Yes,” my
dad sighed poignantly, “I am Canadian now.”
The Importance of Effective Language Policies
Language policies play an important part of peace and conflict in the world today
(Fossi, 2016a) as the reproduction of languages has often been utilized to assert
hegemony such as English in India, bilingualism in settler colonial Canada, and
Russian in the former Soviet Union. In India, English is one of the official lan-
guages, among 22, second only to Hindi. Telugu is a language spoken by 75 million
people in the province of Andhra Pradesh with Urdu as the official language. Shortly
after Independence (1947) from British colonization, a movement for an indepen-
dent province with Telugu as the official language began in the 1950s with ensuing
violent rebellions. On June 2, 2014, a new province called Telangana was finally
created after six decades. In Canada, the Bilingualism and Bicultural Policy
(1963–1969), commonly called the B&B Commission, attempted to address com-
peting linguistic interests of the two European colonizers: Britain and France.
Conscious of the global ascendency of English as the lingua franca, Quebecers
noted that the French language was diminishing and consequently sought language
protection (Phillips-Jefford, 2015–2016). Between 1963–1970, a group known as
the Front de libération du Quebec (FLQ) committed over 200 bombings to separate
from Canada culminating in the killing of Pierre Laporte, the Minister of Labor.
Then Prime Minister Pierre Elliot Trudeau went so far as to invoke the War Measures
Act, a first in peace time, which gave police the ability to arrest 497 people. Phillips-
Jefford (2015–2016) examines Bill 101, eventually approved in 1977 that effec-
tively reproduced the French language within Quebec and decreased income
disparity with English speakers. In 1984, the Supreme Court of Canada ensured
French language rights across Canada; however, Native languages have never been
included in any reiterations of the B&B Commission, revealing how linguistic poli-
cies subordinate local languages through colonialism.
Similar to the Québécois’ concern for French language preservation, the Baltic
Republics sought to prioritize Lithuanian, Estonian, and Latvian over Russian after
the end of the Cold War in 1989 (Phillips-Jefford, 2015–2016). Through govern-
ment interventions, the Baltic Republics ensured Russian born citizens learned the
host countries’ languages by enacting policies that ensured linguistic survival and
reproduction (Phillips-Jefford, 2015–2016). More recently, Pavelnko (2008)
examined the 14 countries that had made up the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics
(USSR) to note that English is on the rise in former Soviet countries where Russian
used to be the first language with the national languages taking second place.
Despite extremely different trajectories as nations have sought to extricate them-
selves from forms of colonialism, settler colonialism, and hegemony, India, Canada,
and the Baltics demonstrate the importance of language policies and their impact on
peace and conflict.
Under the shadow of the postcolonial struggle for linguistic hegemony,
Cameroon’s policy implementations over the last 60 years have resulted in similar
trajectories of violence. Cameroon has two official languages, namely, French and
English due to European colonization in Africa (Keunne & Talle, 2022). Echu
(2004) explains how French, due to the much larger number of its speakers, repre-
senting about 80% of the total population of the country, became the dominant
official language. Between 1960 to 1984, many negotiations took place to move
from 7 to 10 provinces for a federated Cameroon along with several attempts to
revive Indigenous languages. In 1979, a writing system was developed that harmo-
nized Cameroonian Indigenous languages. In 1996, the Constitution was revised to
acknowledge that “indigenous languages are important components of the
Cameroonian cultural heritage” (Echu, 2004, p. 24) along with French and English
bilingual education. On April 14, 1998, a bill was passed to teach Indigenous lan-
guages without clear direction for implementation (Echu, 2004). Despite these
efforts, Cameroon continues to be “characterized by dense multilingualism; the offi-
cial dominance of ex-colonial languages; the official neglect of indigenous lan-
guages; the unsevered colonial umbilical cord; and socio-politically interwoven
language-related problems” (Adegbija, 2000, as cited in Echu, 2004, p. 25). Policy
implementation relating to the perpetuation of local languages in many countries,
not just Cameroon, with a past and present relationship to colonialism, remains an
elusive goal (Nana, 2016).
Historical Context
Nations in Africa were colonial creations created with little regard for tribal affilia-
tions and ancestral traditions that had existed for centuries. In 1472, Fernando Po, a
Portuguese explorer, arrived at the Wouri River. Seeing shrimps in the water, he
renamed the river “Rio dos Camarões,” meaning river of shrimps (Echu, 2004).
After a few iterations, the region eventually became known as Cameroon.
Colonization of Cameroon began in 1884 with the arrival of the Germans who con-
trolled the West African country (Keunne & Talle, 2022). However, despite colonial
pressure on missionary efforts to enforce German linguistic hegemony, school sys-
tems enabled Indigenous languages to continue to remain comfortably used in
everyday life. The real changes came at the Berlin Conference (1884–1885) when
Africa was callously carved up among White Europeans, according to colonial
interests in economic exploitation of the continent’s rich natural resources
(McClintock, 1995). African chiefs were deliberately excluded, reflecting the colo-
nizers’ arrogance that made decisions around Eurocentric greed that completely
disregarded and disrespected African people, their way of life, and their languages.
Since then, some boundaries and names have been changed in ongoing decoloniz-
ing efforts. But today, many African countries continue as colonial creations that
reflect the languages of the Dutch, French, and British colonizers along national lines.
Map of Precolonial Africa
(Miller, 2017)
Map of Colonial Africa
(Miller, 2017)
During colonization, boundaries were drawn and redrawn that reflected the coloniz-
ers’ vicarious struggles for hegemony among France, Britain, and Germany in
Europe. In 1916, British High Commissioner Alfred Milner and French Army
General Henri Simon representing France and Britain, respectively, drew the Picot-
Oliphant Line to partition the south-west areas of Africa that reflected their colonial
interests. Germany, defeated at the end of WWI (1914–1918), eventually lost con-
trol of Cameroon. By 1919, the Milner-Simon agreement consolidated the larger
majority French systems and the minority British system into two territories. France
and England, victors of WWII (1939–1945), continued their competition for world-
wide hegemony by colonizing the world with the creation of newly defined bound-
aries of countries through the League of Nations in which “the new colonial masters
then sought to impose their languages in the newly acquired territory both in the
areas of education and administration” (Echu, 2004, p. 22). With Germany’s defeat
in WWII, France took over a large portion of the land as the independent territory of
Cameroon, while Britain controlled the smaller portion of land now known as
Lagos, Nigeria.
In Cameroon, the British exerted Indirect Rule where education was adminis-
tered through religious organizations and allowed for some inclusion of Indigenous
languages while the French assumed exclusive control over education. From 1920
to 1922, French colonizers closed all schools where Indigenous languages were
taught. Due to the “systematic linguistic persecution” (Stumpf, 1979 as cited in
Echu, 2004, p. 23), the bilingualism of French and English was eventually adopted
as the official language policy. Since the end of the Second World War, these lan-
guages have benefited from a more important consideration as compared to local
languages, to the extent that they have acquired a more prestigious social status and,
finally, are now an integral part of Cameroon’s national heritage. However, estab-
lishing colonial languages was implemented in an unequal manner throughout the
nation and institutions (Fossi, 2020). The global hegemonic struggle of the French
and British colonizers resulted in two Cameroons: French Cameroon and British
Cameroon. When a unified postcolonial Cameroon was finally achieved on October
1, 1961, Indigenous languages were in an ambiguous status linguistically in terms
of daily use and official language policy. The postcolonial legacy of the British and
French ultimately led to the eventual extinction of Native languages in public life
casting a shadow over a newly independent Cameroon.
fficial Language Bilingualism and Bilingual

O
Education Policies
Postcolonial legacies resulted in English and French divisions competing with the
Pidgin. Languages are roughly regional with speakers in the north using Fulfulde,
Pidgin English in the West and French in the rest of the country. The “persistent
disregard of Indigenous languages does not only alienate the Cameroonian child
culturally, but further alienates the vast majority of Cameroonians who are illiterate
(in English and French) since important State business is carried out in the official
languages” (Echu, 2004, p. 19). In the 1990s, Anglophones were suspicious of their
government creating new regional delineations because they were afraid they would
be annexed into a French-majority-speaking area and consequently lose their lin-
guistic rights. The 247 Indigenous languages are relegated to the private sphere
because parents believe their children’s futures depend on learning the language of
the neo-colonizer: English. Since the French continue to dominate the public sphere,
the Anglophone community has become increasingly frustrated to the point where
national unity has been compromised (Echu, 2004). These languages are of unequal
usage in most of the domains of social life in Cameroon. For example, public and
private services, teaching, church, mass media, business, homes, and markets (Fossi,
2020). Even though bilingualism is perceived as a pathway to maintain for consen-
sus, linguistic tensions continue to be an example of a postcolonial legacy of creat-
ing national disunity.
Linguistic policy implementation reveals that Francophones receive a better edu-
cation than their minority Anglophone counterparts, a fact which Anglophones are
conscious of and deeply resent. In secondary school, students in the French medium
can study German and Spanish, take English up to the highest grade, and have more
choices in courses. Since 1961, some universities have offered bilingual education.
Professors teach in the language they work in the best, and students can take tests in
the language of their choice. In this way, ineffective linguistic policy implementa-
tion results in stoking the flames of discontent among the Anglophone minority who
recognize that English is the most important lingua franca worldwide, unlike in
Cameroon, where French dominates (Echu, 2004).
Indigenous Languages
Like many African countries, there are several languages and dialects in Cameroon,
up to 248 languages spoken by 25 million people in 10 distinct regions (Central
Bureau of the Census and Population Studies of Cameroon, 2020). Echu (2003)
states that most of these borrowings come from concepts, objects, practices of
sociocultural institutions, dance, music, and gastronomy, for example, bobolo (a
dish of Ewondo origin prepared with cassava); kpem/kpwem (vegetables of Ewondo
origin prepared with cassava leaves); traditional or local titles, Fon (traditional chief
in the Northwest Region), and Mafor/Mafo (queen mother in the Northwest and
West Regions). About traditional rhythms and dances, the following examples can
be given: ambassibe/ambas bay (musical rhythm and traditional dance of the
Doualas), assiko (musical rhythm and traditional dance among the Basaa Douala),
and mangambeu (of Bangangte origin, musical rhythm, and traditional dance in the
West region). For traditional clothing, the most recurrent terms are kabangondo (of
Duala origin, a loose dress worn by women) and gandoura (loose boubou worn by
men, mainly from North Cameroon). As Echu (2003) reveals, local Cameroonian
identity languages have real, visible, and easily detectable influence on the
Cameroonian French and English based on everyday lived experiences.
While other African countries offer Indigenous languages in the primary years
(Echu, 2004), international organizations in Cameroon reproduce neocolonialism
through educational institutions. Most primary school teachers are paid through the
World Bank; therefore, the language of the colonizers is taught despite Pidgin being
used in everyday life. Historically, in the context of economic constraints, most poor
children did not receive much education. As a result, most people were unable to
participate in national, state, and local discourse because they did not speak English
or French. Indigenous languages are utilized in the private family sector while the
languages of the colonizers increasingly dominate the public sector (Fossi, 2020). It
is difficult for the nation to develop under postcolonial legacies that situate Native
languages in a pejorative hierarchy while simultaneously contextualizing the impor-
tance of learning colonial languages as a way of escaping poverty (Fossi, 2020;
Bitja’a Kody, 2007; Courade & Courade, 1983; Fonuy, 2010). The pressure of aca-
demic competition results in devaluing the linguistic heritage of the Cameroonian
mother tongue that parents should be able to leave their children as a cultural inheri-
tance. Parents internalize the devaluation of their mother tongue, and this also opens
an avenue for what Fonuy (2010) in her study depicts as the rush for an English
education in urban Cameroon.
National Language Debate
Scholars have advocated for a national language to promote unity across the regions
but do not address parental concerns for advancing their children’s interests. While
there has been debate over each region having its own languages, it is difficult to
determine which language within the region should dominate. For this reason,
Cameroon Pidgin English (CPE) could be seen as a neutral option for a national
language. Todd (1983, as cited in Echu, 2004) argues CPE “is widely understood, a
shared lingua franca with Cameroon’s African neighbors and, while rarely the only
mother tongue of a child, is often one of the first languages he hears. It has long
been used as a vehicle for Cameroon culture and has been found perfectly capable
of expressing Christian teachings, parliamentary proceedings, and financial negoti-
ations” (p. 31). Linguistic divisions and inadequate policies resulted in festering
tensions among the Anglophone minority to strike.
A brief overview of Cameroon’s legislation on the structure of the State, lan-
guages, and the educational system may help to better understand the legal frame-
work that currently governs the functioning of education from kindergarten to
university. The Preamble of the Constitution of the Republic of Cameroon January
18, 1996, an updated version of that of 1972, hereafter referred to as The Constitution,
pledges that, “the State shall guarantee the child’s right to education. Primary edu-
cation shall be compulsory. The organization and supervision of all levels shall be
the bounded duty of the State.” The Constitution states in Article 1(3) that “the
official languages of the Republic of Cameroon shall be English and French, both
languages having the same status to ensure the government will ensure bilingualism
will be protected within Cameroon. It shall endeavor to protect and promote national
languages.” These excerpts explicitly establish a direct link between the state, the
organization of the territory, the school, and languages on the one hand, and on the
other hand enshrine discrimination and hierarchy about the status of languages used
in Cameroon. As of April 4, 1998, the Law of Orientation of Education in Cameroon
(1998) sets the general legal framework for education in Cameroon and applies to
nursery, primary, secondary general, and technical education, as well as to training

colleges (Fossi, 2010/2016b). On April 16, 2001, the Constitution restated that “the
State shall enshrine bilingualism at all levels of education as a factor of national
unity and integration.” The State continually functions to reproduce neocolonial
dominance from France and Britain through the educational system and in this way
perpetuates linguistic hegemony, diminishing the language rights of Cameroonians
(Fossi, 2020).
Unfortunately, on October 6, 2016, violence erupted and over a thousand lawyers
and teachers protested the government’s efforts to assimilate two Anglophone
minority regions’ legal and educational systems into the French majority establish-
ment. On October 11, 2016, lawyers began a strike against the government to ask
for a return to the two-state solution that functioned under British and French colo-
nialism. On November 21, 2016, Anglophone teachers joined the strike due to the
deployment of French teachers to English medium schools. The complaint was that
French teachers speak broken English and are not qualified to teach. The strike
spread to include the general population protesting low standards of living. Overall,
Anglophones felt they experienced “marginalization, including under-representation
in strategic positions of government and downright exclusion from others” (Caxton,
2017, n.p.). For example, there are 514 judicial officers, 15 Anglophones, and 499
Francophones. The Ministry of Justice has 1412 Francophone magistrates: 227
Anglophones and 1265 Francophones. Efforts at harmonizing various criminal
codes resulted in exacerbating concerns that the British common law was being
phased out and absorbed into French civil law traditions. Anglophone teachers
joined the efforts to strike because they felt that Francophone universities were pro-
ducing graduates who could not get jobs; therefore, greater access to Anglophone
universities was required. The teachers and lawyers formed the Cameroon
Anglophone Civil Society Consortium (CACSC) to fight for their language rights.
The Cameroonian government responded swiftly and punitively. They arrested
the leader of the CACSC and shut down the Internet for 93 days. Backfiring against
the government, the Anglophone community migrated to French areas increasing
their feelings of exclusion and coining the term “internet refugees” (Caxton, 2017,
n.p.). There were arrests, killings, and home burnings as the government crackdown
on protesters. Without acquiescing to demands for a two-state solution, the govern-
ment “created a National Commission on Bilingualism and Multiculturalism, which
is to report directly to the president on matters affecting bilingualism and multicul-
turalism in the country” (Caxton, 2017, n.p.). However, the continued detention of
protestors has cast a shadow over Human Rights in Cameroon amid strenuous deni-
als from the government (O’Grady, 2019, n.p.). “Those arrests were ‘the turning
point in the struggle,’ said Felix Agbor Nkongho, an Anglophone human rights law-
yer who helped organize protests and then was jailed. ‘The movement now had to
fall in the hands of people who were more extremist, who were not only clamoring
for the rights but wanted independence’” (O’Grady, 2019, n.p.). Postcolonial lin-
guistic legacies have effectively held Cameroonian parents hostage because if they
do not sacrifice their mother tongues, they are drawn into a violent life and death
struggle.
Reproducing Neocolonialism: Land and Resources
Against the backdrop of the battle for linguistic hegemony is the colonial tradition
of appropriating resources from the Global South. Ekah (2019) uses the Anglophone
crisis in Cameroon to illustrate the geopolitical struggle for hegemony in terms of
land and natural resources. The Anglophone area “is endowed with natural resources,
fertile soils, and climate which encourage extensive plantation agriculture of rubber,
bananas, palm oil and tea (Ekah, 2019, p, 144) as well as volcano rich soil and
waterfalls with hydro power with that will serve not only Cameroon’s Anglophone
community but Nigeria as well. Part of the Anglophone Regions (the Limbe
Coastline) lies within the Gulf of Guinea. The Gulf of Guinea is the world’s richest
and under-exploited place. Abubakar (2016 as cited in Ekah, 2019) reveals the
Anglophone area “holds about 35% of the world’s total petroleum reserves and …
diamonds, tin, bitumen, copper, manganese, gold, phosphide granite, gas just to
mention these, as well as very rich rain forests which accounts for 20% of the
world’s total rainforest reserves” (p. 146).
Further there are timber reserves, gold, uranium, and iron ore.
The opportunity to loot or exploit resources is crucial for the possibility of an
emergence of and/or sustainability of violent rebellions. “This explains why the
Ambazonian government had always sought the possibility of trading ‘their’
resources for financial and or military support of the war to their favor. This equally
brings to mind the secret agreement signed between a Canadian private company,
Kilimanjaro Capital Ltd and a clandestine Separatist group on November 1, 2012”
(Ekah, 2019, p. 150). Separatists’ movements have been shrewd in sabotaging the
economic advantage of the area. In November 2018, fingers were chopped from
plantation workers who worked at one of the largest state-owned corporations called
the Cameroon Development Corporation (CDC) with 22,000 employees, the second
largest business in the country. Ongoing threats to workers eventually closed the
CDC in January 2019 and cost the country 410 million dollars.
There is also further instability along the Nigerian/Cameroonian border. Both
countries face separatist movements, Boko Haram insurgency, and trade along the
border (Ekah, 2019). Ekah (2019) asserts that Cameroon’s Anglophone population
does not warrant a separatist strategy as it is only 8 million out of 25 million.
However, they look to the global powers of the G7 to support their bid for separa-
tion. Indeed, as a former French colony, business ties continue to abound to exploit
the natural resources in Cameroon. For instance, “Bollore Group in agriculture and
agribusiness as well as logistics and transportation, Total and Perenco in oil, Orange
for mobile telephony, Bouuygues, Razel, SCET for construction” (Ekah, 2019,
p. 155). Ambazonian leadership expects “Britain to complete the decolonization
process of her former territory of British Southern Cameroon, by facilitating the
recognition of the independence” (Ekah, 2019, p. 156).
Since 2017, the struggle for linguistic hegemony has brought “Cameroon to the
brink of civil war. Hundreds have died, close to 500,000 have been displaced, and
activists have been rounded up and jailed” (O’Grady, 2019, n.p.) because
English-speaking separatists want to create a new nation called Ambazonia. 30,000

refugees have gone to Nigeria (O’Grady, 2019, n.p.). Okereke (2018) identified six
key issues:
(a) The centralized state should be able to take criticism.
(b) Yaoundé should be the center to make decisions because it is far away from the
problems associated with the Anglophone population.
(c) A continued disrespect to fulfill commitments that hold administrative, legal,
and institutional centers accountable and change traditions.
(d) Failure to comply with the 1960 plebiscite and 1972 referendum promises.
(e) The “United Republic of Cameroon” name was changed to the “Republic of
Cameroon.”
(f) Even though the Constitution states bilingualism of French and English must be
respected equally in the public sector, disrespect continues.
Since the fall of 2016, the CACSC has employed several tactics to meet its politi-
cal goal. Anglophone advocates utilized mass protests by lawyers, and teachers
made diplomatic appeals to various Embassies and High Commissions of Cameroon
in Africa, Europe, and America and hired a consortium of international legal practi-
tioners. On January 9, 2017, Agbor Balla began a boycott of staying home every
Monday or Tuesday called Operation Ghost Town Resistance (OGTR). “During this
period, the inhabitants of the two Anglophone regions in Cameroon stayed away
from the offices and business premises thereby bringing all political and economic
activities to a halt” (Okereke, 2018, p. 9), peaceful extreme measures which are seen
as important in achieving Anglophone Cameroonians’ aspirations worldwide.
However, the United Nations, the African Union, and other international groups
need to commit to help solving the crisis or escalation could result in a Central
African humanitarian crisis. The violence in the Manyu Division could exacerbate
confrontations and military offensives to create refugees fleeing to Nigeria for
safety. However, on the positive side, the Anglophone crisis could be resolved in the
short term through dialogue (Okereke, 2018), if the question as to which languages
conversations can occur can be answered.
Conclusion
Colonialism is not in the past. Postcolonial legacies reproduced through inadequate

language policies reveal the struggle for hegemony and access to resources among
European countries occurring today. In this way, the violence in Cameroon over
language rights reveals the reality of postcolonial legacies. As English dominates
worldwide, Cameroonian parents are motivated to offer their children the best edu-
cation possible for their future even though postcolonial legacies can lead to the
linguistic genocide of many local languages. Despite gaining Independence, educa-
tion in Cameroon continues to construct postcolonial subjects that have become
complicit in their own oppression by participating in the genocide of their own
Native languages. Cameroonians are still fighting hegemonic postcolonial legacies

due to inadequate language policies that are an important part of resolving linguistic
threats to minority populations and do not address colonial traditions of resource
exploitation in linguistic policies.
In Guntu, about 250 km from Kakinada, there is a folk story about a sage named
Tenali Ramakrishnan (1480–1528). One day a man came to the village who spoke
many languages. He challenged everyone to guess his mother tongue. Many
attempted, without success. Late one night, a ghost appeared to scare the polyglot.
He cried out in terror. The next morning, Tenali Ram announced the man’s first
language was Tamil. Shocked, the man asked how he knew. Tenali Ram replied that
he had dressed up to scare the man. In the moment of his great distress, the man
reverted to his mother tongue.
Decolonization efforts need a rescue plan to protect minority languages.
Countries like Cameroon, among other postcolonial nations, should develop poli-
cies to preserve Native languages and negate the oppression of postcolonial lega-
cies. Languages imposed by the French majority and English minority colonizers
have resulted in increasing tension ever since Cameroonian independence in the
1960s. Similarly in Canada, the French minority and English majority continue to
compete over immigrants who express a preference for learning English rather than
French. With this, the threat to the survival of the French language continues in the
context of the precarious nature of reviving indigenous languages (Takam, 2009)
similar to the struggle for linguistic hegemony all over the world.
Is the global dominance of English inevitable? What types of policies are needed
to preserve Native languages? Colonizers did not show even a modicum of respect
for the people who lived on the land they exploited for resources, resulting cultural
and linguistic genocide on a global scale. Decolonization involves learning about
and valuing diverse philosophies, ideas, and practices. Preserving mother tongues
and providing a globally competitive education through effective language policies
can help resist reproducing colonial practices today. Through retaining linguistic
roots, it may be possible to overcome the colonizer/colonized binary of English
hegemony and acknowledge the importance of creating nuanced identities in a glo-
balized world. As Rabindranath Tagore (1861–1941) said, “The mother tongue is
like mother’s milk in education.” Vande Mataram.
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and prospects. English Today, 26, 34–42.
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Keunne, E., & Talle, A. (2022). Didactique des langues officielles en contexte de bilinguisme offi-
ciel au Cameroun. Etat des lieux et perspectives. Les Editions du Schabel. Yaoundé.
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To Lay down Guidelines on Education in Cameroon. Law n°2001/005 of 16 April 2001 on the
orientation of higher education in the Republic of Cameroon.
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Routledge.
Miller, H. (2017). Mapped: Africa before and after European colonialism. Matador Network.
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perspective. Journal of Education and Training Studies, 4(4), 1–29.
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Analyses, 10(3), 8–12.
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and sociolinguistic theory. International Journal of Bilingual Education and Bilingualism,
11(3–4), 275–314.
Phillips-Jefford, M. (2015–2016). Global villages in the classroom: The need for inclusive
strategies using global education and multicultural educational principles. In A. Coombs,
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2015 Rosa Bruno-Jofré symposium in education.
Takam, A. F. (2009). Stratégies de promotion et de revitalisation des langues minoritaires autoch-
tones au Cameroun et au Canada. PhD Dissertation. Dalhousie University.
Munjeera Jefford is a PhD student at York University, Toronto, Canada. She worked for many
years as an English as a Second Language instructor and supervisor. Munjeera’s interests are post-
colonial, subaltern, decolonial, and anti-oppressive education management. This article is dedi-
cated to all immigrant kids, who are not encouraged to keep our mother tongues, but stay connected
to our elders and extended global family with much love anyway.
Achille Fossi Doctorat de 3e Cycle in Theoretical Linguistics from University of Yaounde I and
PhD in Applied Linguistics from York University/Toronto. He taught FSL and ESL in high schools
and universities for more than 25 years. Achille authored scientific papers on formal bi-multilingual
education, bilingualism, linguistic and cultural hybridization, generative syntax, cultural and lin-
guistic contact, and analyzing data on the variationist (socio)linguistic competence of FSL learners
using computerized tools. Achille advocates for global citizenship, equitable and inclusive multi-
lingual education through community engagement for students with diverse needs. À titre de cher-
cheur, Achille collabore sur de nombreux projets en(tre) Afrique et/en Amérique du Nord et
l’Europe (ex. Globally Networked Learning, Camerise). Achille est Chargé de Cours au
Département d’Études Bilingues de l’Université de Yaoundé I, Cameroun.
Eric Keunne (he/him/his) is a Black immigrant settler, community leader, and seasoned FSL
teacher/consultant with over 15 years’ experience of teaching in Cameroon, the UK, and Canada.
He is currently a Vice-Principal for the Halton District School Board. Eric is an author and PhD
Student and Research Assistant in the French Department at York University. His research focuses
on Culturally Responsive and Relevant Pedagogy (CRRP), Teacher Education, Equity and
Inclusion, Anti-Oppression and Anti-Racist Pedagogy, Bilingualism, and Language Policy.
Part III
Problematizing Hegemonic Discourses
The June 1981 Coup: The Stolen Narrative
of the Iranian Revolution
Mahmood Delkhasteh
Abbreviations
CIA Central Intelligence Agency

IRP Islamic Republic Party
IRI Islamic Republic of Iran
MI5 (Britain’s) Military Intelligence, Section 5
MP Member of Parliament
Introduction
Nothing is inevitable in the birth of or the course of revolution and the failure to examine
the process itself blinds the analyst to the trajectories not taken, the possibilities contained
in the revolutionary moment rather than the inevitable outcomes. (Leiden & Schmitt,
1968, p. 73)
According to Stephen Kinzer (2021), author of All the Shah’s Men: An American
Coup and the Roots of Middle East Terror, Abolhassan Banisadr was
the incarnation of what is good in Iranian soul. And that essentially which caused his down-
fall… He was a person of infinite decency. And in a way I think it might have been his
downfall. Because he had one lacking quality, one quality which he didn’t have, and the
quality the other people around him in that government in 1979 it did have it in excess and
that quality was ‘cruelty’… they were cruel. They were heartless… That was Banisadr’s
problem. He couldn’t go along with that. He’s not one of those people who could say: ‘ends
justify the means.’ His inner decency which drove him to take the positions that led to his
downfall.
In 1979, years of unrest in Iran exploded into the largest revolution of the twentieth
century. Its aims, which were expressed in over 500 popular slogans (Moqtader,
1979) and hundreds of leaders’ interviews and speeches (Shabakeh…Paris, 2014,
February 1), were to overthrow the Pahlavi monarchy and establish a republican
politics of independence, freedom, democracy, social justice, and progress. Initially,
these ideals were articulated through Islamic language and principles which later
M. Delkhasteh (*)
Lincoln, UK
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-41965-2_9
158 M. Delkhasteh
partly appeared in the first draft of the Iranian constitution. This document was
endorsed by Khomeini, the leader of the revolution, and later when Abolhassan
Banisadr won the country’s first presidential election with 76% of the vote
(Muzzaffar, 1999/1378), in which he advocated democratic goals for the revolution,
opposed the dictatorial tendency within the leadership, and defined political victory
as the ability to “redress the revolution and rescue it from a fistful of fascist clerics”
(Bakhash, 1985, p. 97).
Prior to that, as the revolution began in January 1978, the Shah’s regime asked
Saddam Hussain to expel Khomeini from Iraq in order to dampen the movement.
However, the decision backfired as soon Khomeini found himself in Paris, sur-
rounded by Muslim and nationalist intellectuals. They provided him with opportu-
nities to introduce the notion of the Islamic state as an alternative to monarchy. This
was to be a “democratic state in its real meaning,” and Khomeini suggested it would
be ruled by its people: “when an Islamic state is established [in Iran], I will take the
role of giving guidance” (rather than leading in government) (Khomeini, n.d., in
Banisadr, 1981, p. 348). In this democratic state, he argued, “the clergy will not rule.
They observe and give guidance to the people in charge. This government at all
levels will be based on the people’s vote and will be observed, assessed and criti-
cised by the public” (Khomeini, 1999a/1378, Vol. 4, p. 160). In this discourse, free-
dom was the main principle of the state: “the first thing which exists for human is
the freedom of expression” (Khomeini, 1978, August 5, in Doostkaam & Jalaali,
1979/1358, p. 168) and “Islam is the religion of progress and democracy, in its true
sense” (Khomeini, 1999b/1378, Vol. 5, p. 353). Khomeini claimed that “the Iranian
regime will become a democratic system which will lead to the stability of the
region. Capital will return to Iran and be used in the interest of the people” (1978,
November 15, in Banisadr, 1981, p. 190). This was because “we want to realise the
declaration of human rights [in our country], we want to be free, we want to have
independence and freedom in our country” (Khomeini, 1989/1363, vol. 2, p. 242).
In such a state, women would also become free: “Islam is not only in favour of
women’s freedom; furthermore, this religion is the founder of women’s freedom in
all dimensions” (Khomeini, 1999c/1378, Vol. 6, p. 578). He stated that “women in
Islamic government are as free as men and are equal with them. Islam freed women
from being men’s slave and made them equal with men” (1978, July 10, in
Doostkaam & Jalaali, 1979/1358, p. 78).
This language was very different from that which he had used 10 years before.
At that time, Khomeini was living in exile in Iraq after giving up on the possibility
of reforming the monarchy by implementing the 1906 Constitution. Here he out-
lined an alternative Islamic state based on the doctrine of velayate-faqih, the rule of
the Jurist, in which people were constructed as minors and orphans who had to be
led by the clergy: “Velayat-e faghih is fundamentally a rational concept,” he wrote,
“…as it is (rational) to appoint a ghayem [legal guardian] for an orphan. There is no
difference between having a ghayem for an orphan or a ghayem for a nation since
they are similar in regard to duty and situation” (Khomeini, 1970/1348, pp. 61–64).
However, as democracy was one of the main goals of the revolutionary movements
in Iran at this time (as it had been during the Constitutional Revolution of 1906 and
The June 1981 Coup: The Stolen Narrative of the Iranian Revolution 159
the 1951–53 nationalization of oil movement led by Mohammad Mussadegh),

Khomeini soon realized that his only chance of leadership was to become the voice
of public demand and desire, finally declaring: “we are subordinate to people’s vote;
whatever the nation votes, we also are subordinate to it” (Khomeini, 1999a/1378,
Vol. 4, p. 181).
However, this change of stand was not surprising since he had already changed
his views from being a fierce monarchist until the early 1960s and opposing any
change of the country’s constitution. This was evident in a comment he made about
the first draft of the country’s constitution in which veleyat-e-faqih (rule of the
jurist) was absent and the people’s vote was its sole source of legitimacy: “This law
is the price of thousands of martyrs of the Constitutional Revolution; until the
advent of the Imam of times [Mehdi, the 12th Shia Imam], nobody has the right to
change even one of its articles” (Nategh, 2021, May 6). Initially, he was also opposed
to Velayat-e- Faqih, which he later promoted (Montazeri, 1989) p. 84). Moreover,
there was a general belief that unlike many politicians, a Grand Ayatollah would not
lie or break a covenant. The Koran is explicit about the gravity of observing one’s
covenant, stating “and fulfil [every] covenant. Verily! The covenant will be ques-
tioned” (Koran, 1:34). Banisadr and other political elites working with Khomeini
had not yet realized that Khomeini saw inconsistency as part of his leadership and
some years after he openly stated his Machiavellian approach to politics: “We want
to implement Islam,” he stated in. “So it is possible that yesterday I have said some-
thing and today say something else and tomorrow say something else. It does not
make sense that I say, because yesterday I have said something, I keep my word”
(Khomeini, 1999f/1378, vol. 18, p. 178).
Soon after the 1979 revolution, however, the ruling elite diverged into two loose
fronts. One was led by Banisadr, who had become a major theoretician of the revo-
lution; a member of the Revolutionary Council, which was formed during the revo-
lution and he became its member after the revolution; and in 1980 the first elected
president of the country and advocate of democracy. The other front, the Islamic
Republic Party, and its allies, in the word of its leader, Ayatollah Beheshti aimed to
establish a “despotism of the righteous” (estebdade solahaa) or “national despo-
tism” (estebdade meli) (Safarian & Dezfooli, 2009/1388, pp. 143, 329, 330). These
elite fronts with competing political agendas struggled for control of the state for
28 months following the revolution. This struggle culminated in June 1981 with
Banisadr’s removal from office and the seizure of the state by the Islamic Republican
Party (IRP), the Mojahedin of the Islamic Revolution Organization (Sazeman-e
Mojahedin-e Enghelab-e Eslami), and other smaller parties, events which were cel-
ebrated by the ruling clergy as a “third revolution” that has conditioned the outcome
of the 1979 revolution to the present day.1
1
After the occupation of the American embassy on 4 November 1978, Khomeini called the action
a “second revolution”, an “authentic revolution” bigger than the first, and Rafsanjani (1999) called
the removal of Banisadr the “third” and even greater revolution. It is curious to note that in
Rafsanjani’s memoir (1999),the phrase “third revolution” can be found in the index but is missing
in the text. See also Xinhua General Overseas News Service, 18 June 1981; Rafsanjani, 1999/1378.
160 M. Delkhasteh
Despite the considerable significance of these events, however, the political process
of the president’s removal and the nature and context of the parliamentary debates
which presented the case for his incompetence are still under-researched and hence
remain overlooked by many scholars. At present, within scholarship on the Iranian
Revolution and the political process of creating the post-revolutionary state, there
are two broad interpretations of the president’s removal. One, based largely on offi-
cial documentation from the Majles (parliament) and statements by the regime’s
leader, defines it as a constitutional removal due to incompetence (Rafsanjani,
1999/1378, p. 165). The other which is offered by many scholars of the revolution
describes Banisadr’s removal as a “dismissal,” an “impeachment,” or an “ousting,”
or argues simply that he was “thrown out”2 (Milani, 1988, p. 324).
None of these interpretations, however, sufficiently take into account the ample
documentary evidence which suggests that the nature of the president’s removal
was more properly a coup d’état. The question is, why do many experts in the field
passively or even actively support this official discourse around the events, even at
the cost of academic freedom and particularly as they do not have to tiptoe around
the Iranian regime? Why, instead of providing space for counter-narratives to be
considered, do they neglect or exclude them from the analysis of an historical event
whose reinterpretation could fundamentally transform our understanding of the
1979 Iranian Revolution and current Iranian politics? To what extent is this a form
of discursive power whose function is, as Michel Foucault illustrated, to constitute
a regime of truth that makes anything outside itself other, unsayable and unthink-
able? (Foucault, 1991, p. 59).
This paper alternatively argues that the removal of the Iranian president in 1981
can be understood as a political coup and that understanding the events as illegal
and unconstitutional points to the possibility that all subsequent governments since
its implementation are themselves illegitimate. It pursues three new lines of inquiry:
an examination of the legal credibility of the official rationales for determining the
president’s incompetence, an examination of the legal process of his removal, and
an examination of the wider political conditions surrounding this process. To do so,
it draws on three bodies of published and unpublished primary sources, which I
analyzed qualitatively by gathering multiple observations, statements, narratives,
and interpretations of events from different actors, juxtaposing official and informal
accounts, comparing the texts for corroboration and difference, and reconstructing
accounts that have been overlooked or under-reported. The first is a corpus of par-
liamentary records of Mashroohe Mozakerate Majles-e Shoray-e Eslami, 1981,
Session 167 and 168, which were 2-day sessions in the Iranian Majles on June 20
and 21, 1981. These sessions were specifically dedicated to debating president
Abolhassan Banisadr’s competence and grounds for his potential removal. They
have been compiled from the official electronic archive of the Majles, which is
accessible online (see Mashroohe, 1981). The second body of sources consists of
key constitutional documents prepared during the final drafting of the Iranian
Republic’s first constitution between August 3, 1979, and November 15, 1979.
2
See also Milani (n.d.); Farhi (1990); Halliday (1982); Parsa (1989); Keshavarzian (2009);
Kesselman et al. (2013); Katouzian (2010).
These documents are also available from the Majles electronic archive in Soorate
mashrooh-e mozakeraat-e parliament baresiye nahaa-eeye ghanoun-e asasi jom-
hooriye eslami Iran, Jelde dovom (see Soorate, 1985/1364). The third body of
sources includes memoirs, speeches, and statements of main actors, found mainly in
an extensive official report of the judiciary (Ardebili, 1985/1364). It also includes
Banisadr’s daily reports to the Iranians, his statements, and letters to Ayatollah
Khomeini.
As there has been “little discussion as to what a coup actually is” among scholars
in general, this paper relies on a working definition. While there are many different
forms of coup (e.g., “military coup,” “palace coup,” and “creeping coup”) (Powell
& Thyne, 2011, pp. 249–259), they share a common denominator of the unconstitu-
tional and hence illegal removal of the sitting executive (Young, 2010). The paper
thus defines a coup as any process which “includes illegal and overt attempts by the
military or other elites within the state apparatus to unseat the sitting executive”
(Powell & Thyne, 2011, p. 252).
Based on this definition, the paper aims to demonstrate through a re-examination
of historical documentation of the case that Banisadr’s removal in 1981 was illegal
and unconstitutional.
Questioning the Narrative of “Presidential Incompetence”
The various factions within the current regime share the view that Iran’s first presi-
dent was legally removed by the Iranian parliament (majles) on June 26, 1981,
which exercised its legal right, stipulated in Article 89 of the country’s constitution,
to remove the president on the basis of incompetence. To this day, the Iranian gov-
ernment reproduces this narrative through media and documentaries, demonstrating
that the removal of the president is not a thing of the past but an active part of con-
temporary Iranian politics.3 Even politicians who actively participated in Banisdar’s
removal but were forced out of power following the presidency of Mohammad
Khatami in 2006 often reproduce this narrative. For example, on June 20, 2013,
Yousefi Eshkevari (an MP who voted in favour of removing Banisadr) justified his
decision by saying:
With the excuse of talking to people or stating that ‘knowing is people’s right’, he used to
expose and disclose things [to people] and was trying to affect the public opinions which
did not know what is behind the scenes…we came to the conclusion that at a managerial
level he neither had the necessary competency nor was able to remain [in power] and con-
tinue his responsibility. (Jaras, 2013, June 20).
3
For example, see a recent documentary produced and aired by Iranian state television (2013, June
19), and a speech made at the Council of Experts by its then-leader, Ayatollah Mahdavi Kani
(2013, March 6). There is a related report by the Centre of Islamic Revolution Documents (2014).
Finally, see a documentary made by the Qom Seminary Site (2014, March 21).
162 M. Delkhasteh
Despite this, he also now wishes that he would not have attended the Majles meeting
and voted against Banisadr (Jaras, 2013, June 20).
The basis of such claims, however, has never been thoroughly examined. This
paper thus re-examines the seven main criteria of incompetence that were used to
determine Banisadr’s removal and debated in the Majles on 20 and 21 June 1981.
This analysis suggests that none of these criteria in fact provided legal ground to
support a case for the president’s incompetence. The following section outlines the
seven main arguments made by MPs during these 2 days of debate.
I ncompetence for Challenging Veleyat-e Faquih

and Undermining Khomeini’s Authority
The first charge against the president was that he lacked belief in Velayat-e faghih
(the rule of the Jurist and the theological linchpin of the regime). This, it was argued,
undermined Khomeini and the people’s authority as he was the vali-faqih. This was
expressed in a number of ways by different MPs.
In the Council of Experts [elected in order to rework the first draft of the constitution],
Banisadr stated that ‘for 9 reasons I am opposing Velayat-e-Faqih’. Since he understands
neither fiqh nor faqih, he has converted to democracy. This is why after his election he
constantly relies on his 11 million votes. By accepting western democracy, Banisadr negates
Velayat-e Faqih. (Ali Akbar Masoumi, in Mashroohe Mozakerate Majles-e Shoray-e
Eslami, 1981, Session 167, p. 2)
The Imam’s name – yes, he only respected the name of the Imam (Khomeini) but in practice
he was attacking all aspects of Velyat-e-Faqih. (Ali Khamenei, in Mashroohe Mozakerate
Majles-e Shoray-e Eslami, 1981, Session 167, p. 18)
In Mashad University I said that the presidency of Banisadr is a disaster. This is because he
doesn’t believe in Velayat-e-Faqih in the slightest. Because of this, he will stand against
Imam and create immense problems. (Abdol-Hamid Dialemeh, in Mashroohe Mozakerate
Majles-e Shoray-e Eslami, 1981, Session 167, p. 18)
People voted for the president because he was responsible and believed in Velayat-e Faqih
and whenever its contrary is proven, the president is nothing, but (people) remove other
people as well. (Mir Behzad Shahriari, in Mashroohe Mozakerate Majles-e Shoray-e
Eslami, 1981, Session 167, p. 3)
Assessing the Validity of the Arguments
According to Article 23 of the version of the Iranian constitution which was recog-
nized at the time of this debate in the parliament, “the investigation of individuals’
beliefs is forbidden, and no one may be molested or taken to task simply for holding
a certain belief” (Constitution of The Islamic Republic of Iran [C of IRI], 1979e).
From a legal perspective, by arguing that the president lacked belief in
Velayat-e-Faqih, the MPs violated the constitution they were supposed to uphold.
Furthermore, Article 86 of the constitution stated that…
Members of the Assembly are completely free in expressing their views and casting their
votes in the course of performing their duties as representatives, and they cannot be prose-
cuted or arrested for opinions expressed in the Assembly or votes cast in the course of per-
forming their duties as representatives. (C of IRI, 1979)
Both MPs who were elected regionally and the president who was elected nationally
enjoyed the same right to this freedom of belief. Hence, in this case, it was the MPs
who violated the constitution, twice: once when they investigated the president’s
view and again when claiming that his expression of his view was evidence of his
incompetence.
Banisadr’s opposition to Velayat-e-Faqih was long-standing public knowledge at
the time. As a member of the Council of Experts which drafted the constitution in
1979, he had openly presented nine points of opposition to the doctrine (aforemen-
tioned by Masumi, MP). While Khomeini had been aware of Banisadr’s opposition
to the doctrine for more than 10 years, he did not publicize his disapproval of him
and ratified Banisadr’s election in 1980, won with more than 76% of the vote.
Finally, although there was no place for Velayat-e-Faqih in the first draft of the con-
stitution, Khomeini was advocated putting the Velayat-e Faqhi-less constitution to a
referendum (Ranjbar-Daemi, 2013; see also Constitution of the Islamic Republic of
Iran…, 1979/1357).
Furthermore, the charge of undermining both Khomeini and the people’s author-
ity is contradictory in terms. On May 20 1981f, Banisadr invoked Article 59 of the
constitution, which states that…
In extremely important economic, political, social, and cultural matters, the function of the
legislature may be exercised through direct recourse to popular vote through a referendum.
Any request for such direct recourse to public opinion must be approved by two-thirds of
the members of the Islamic Consultative Assembly. (C of IRI, 1979)
Banisadr had requested a national referendum on whether the people endorsed his
democratic vision of the future regime or the IRPs. He stated: “the healthiest way to
solve the problem is for everybody to agree to go to the people and that their vote
should decide” (Banisadr, 1981f, May 20/1360, Ordibehesht 30). As president, he
argued that it was his duty to uphold the people’s authority and his right to make a
significant political decision. In contrast, Khomeini, who according to the constitu-
tion had no authority in this matter; opposed the referendum; elevated himself above
the constitution, the president, and the people; and stated: “If everybody opposes it,
I oppose it and if everybody agrees with it, still, I oppose it” (Khomeini, 1999d, vol.
14, p. 377). Soon after, he removed any ambiguity about his view of the value of
democratic votes, saying: “if 35 million people [referring to Iran’s population at the
time] say yes, I say no” (Khomeini, 1981, June 25; in Khomeini, 1999e, vol 15,
pp. 20–21). Here, it was the president who upheld the people’s authority and
Khomeini who violated it, the president working within the constitutional frame-
work and Khomeini working outside it.
In 2014, more than 30 years after Banisadr’s removal, Mohammad Borgei, a
reformist intellectual living in exile in the USA, stated:
164 M. Delkhasteh
This was Mr. Banisadr’s characteristic. We have to tell the truth that in our history it is
unprecedented that a person has all the power but stands on his principles, while Mr.
Khomeini was trying to keep him [as president] till very last days. (2013, March 9).
Banisadr made these principles explicit during his struggle against the
IRP. He said:
The quarrel is about freedom. You [the IRP] want to have absolute authority and you are
against people’s freedom. You want that no one dares to question your affairs. However, the
president is in favour of freedom and warns the people that if they lose freedom they will
lose development. (Banisadr, 1980d, December 18/1359, Azar 27)
Later, still the president, in one of his last messages to Iranians, while fatwa was
issued for his execution, hence he was in hiding, he stated:
What is important is not the elimination of the president, but the fact that the demon of
despotism and oppression once again wants to impose itself upon you, the people, and to
make the precious blood which was shed for Islam and freedom worthless. (in Ardebili,
1985/1364, p. 680)
During this time, Khomeini tried to keep him in post in return for Banisadr’s com-
plicity and cooperation on the crackdown on political opposition to the IRP. He
asked Banisadr to “I like you and also this country after me doesn’t have anybody, I
like you to preserve yourself and stay in your position on the conditions” (Husseini,
2013, April 5), but the president responded:
I joined you because I saw you as a man of belief and action. I accepted the post of presi-
dency in order to serve the people according to my belief and spend all my power in defend-
ing the principles. However, it has become obvious that you do not want a man of belief and
action, but a lackey. The title of presidency is not a status to violate my principles and belief
for them. If I am not able to serve I have no attraction to such titles. If you are looking for a
lackey, there are so many lackeys, do not expect such a thing from me. The Shah was not
overthrown to be replaced with a worse system. (in Husseini, 2013, April 5)
So here we can see that it is the president who chooses the democratic route, by
demanding a referendum, and it is Khomeini who takes the opposite position.
I ncompetence for Opposing the Occupation

of and Hostage-Taking at the US Embassy
Another reason which was mentioned as proof for the president’s incompetence was
his constant opposition to the occupation of American embassy and hostage taking
in November 1979 which lasted 444 days. As stated by Musavi Khoiniha, leader of
the occupation,
Mr. Banisadr emphasises his 11 million votes, but [the question is] whether the occupation
of the nest of American spies [referring to the Occupation of American embassy] by the
students of Imam’s line did not receive the absolute support of Iranians. Did not Imam
[Khomeini] call it a revolution greater than the first revolution? Did you ask why Mr.
Banisadr was one of the very first to oppose this action and use any opportunity to break it?
Do you wonder why Mr. Banisadr used to tell the Students of Imam’s line that they are more
dangerous that the Fedaeen’s guerrillas?4 Have you ever wondered why Mr. Banisadr was
doing his utmost to release the spy hostages [referring to the American hostages]? (Musavi
Khoiniha, Mashroohe Mozakerate Majles-e Shoray-e Eslami, First term, 1981, Session
167, p. 4)
Although he always was in support of freeing the hostages and used to say that by taking
hostages it is we who have become the hostages of Americans, after their release he called
it an unforgiveable treachery and accused the government of the embezzlement of the trea-
sury. (Musa Zargar, Mashroohe Mozakerate Majles-e Shoray-e Eslami, First term, 1981,
Session 167, p. 13)
Imam called the occupation of Spies nest as the second revolution and he [Basniadr] always
opposed it. (Seyed Ali Khamenei, Mashroohe Mozakerate Majles-e Shoray-e Eslami, First
term, 1981, Session 167, p. 18)
As a member of the Council of Revolution and later as president of the country, it

was Banisadr’s responsibility to observe international law and oppose the occupa-
tion of the American embassy and the taking of diplomats’ hostage. He thus had a
legal duty to oppose these acts and try to release the hostages; indeed, he called the
hostage-taking an “inhumane, immoral and illegal” act (Ardebili, 1985/1364,
p. 338).5 Despite the parliament’s accusation that his opposition to the hostage-
taking was a criterion of incompetence, supporting the occupation and hostage-
taking would have in fact classified him as incompetent in terms of the international
law of diplomatic immunity which the Iranian government was committed to. By
using his position on the occupation of the embassy and the hostage taking as evi-
dence of his incompetency, the parliament was itself in violation of the constitution
and the international laws which the Iranian government was committed to uphold.
I ncompetence for Opposing the State’s

Revolutionary Institutions
After the overthrow of the Shah’s regime, the caretaker government of the Prime
Minister Mehdi Bazaran established new institutions like Revolutionary Guards and
Revolutionary courts, which were running parallel to the already establishing insti-
tutions of army and judiciary. Banisadr’s critical approach to these institutions was
used as another reason for his incompetency:
4
He refers to the Devotees of the People’s Organization (Sazamane Fadaeeyan-e Khalg), which
was a Marxist–Stalinist organization that started a civil war in different parts of Iran, primarily in
the Kurdish region, after the revolution.
5
Later, Hassan Ayat (an MP and member of the IRP central committee) criticised Banisadr for
using these terms regarding the hostage-taking and saw it as a reason for his removal. See Ardebili
(1985/1364, p. 348).
166 M. Delkhasteh
The issue is not incompetence but conspiracy. Whether the discrediting of revolutionary
institutions, which you have seen examples of, or discrediting Islam and spreading national-
ism and all other anti-Islamic schools which can create an obstacle vis-a-vis Islam, Mr.
Banisadr has supported it. (Ali Akbar Velayt, Mashroohe Mozakerate Majles-e Shoray-e
Eslami, First term, 1981, Session 167, p. 9)
With all of his power he tried to weaken and dissolve the Parliament, the Council of
Guardians, the Revolutionary Courts, and the Revolutionary Guard and make a strong
attack against all legal and revolutionary institutions. (Musa Zargar, Mashroohe Mozakerate
Majles-e Shoray-e Eslami, First term, 1981, Session 167, p. 13)
He has always criticized revolutionary institutions, both before and after the war. (Ayatollah
Sadegh Khalkhali, Mashroohe Mozakerate Majles-e Shoray-e Eslami, First term, 1981,
Session 167, p. 14)
Open and covert opposition to the Revolutionary Guards, Reconstruction Jihad and other
revolutionary and legal institutions. When the president disrespects these legal institutions,
which are part of the complex/collection of the state, he separates himself from it. (Seyed
Ali Khamenei, Mashroohe Mozakerate Majles-e Shoray-e Eslami, First term, 1981, Session
168, p. 18)
Attacking the Revolutionary Courts (for example), stating that these courts were not sup-
posed to last eternally and [that they had] becomes a nightmare and deprives you [people]
of a peaceful life. (Abdoh-Hamid Dialameh, Mashroohe Mozakerate Majles-e Shoray-e
Eslami, First term, 1981, Session 167, p. 25)
Ten other MPs, including Eshkevari and Omid Najaf Abadi, also presented cases for
the president’s incompetence in a separate statement, which included accusations
that Banisadr expressed “opposition to the Revolutionary Courts or [was] exagger-
ating the weaknesses and the problems with them” (The Centre of Islamic Revolution
Documents, n.d.).
As already stated, after the 1979 revolution and before he ran for president, Banisadr
had been critical of the establishment of the Revolutionary Courts, the Revolutionary
Guards, and other newly founded institutions, warning that they would provide
leverage for the rebuilding of a new dictatorship under the pretext of defending the
revolution. As president, he did not recognize the revolutionary courts as constitu-
tional because the constitution, at the time, did not recognize the Revolutionary
Courts. Therefore, his opposition to the Revolutionary Courts was based on the
exercise of his duty as the president. Because the Revolutionary Guard did have a
constitutional base (C of IRI, Article 150) (C of IR, 1979d), the president recog-
nized and worked with it. However, he publicly opposed and exposed the illegal acts
of both institutions in fulfilment of his constitutional duties.
For example, organized gangs attacked a speech he was giving on the anniver-
sary of Mohammed Mussadegh’s death at Tehran University.6 Before the event, he
had warned IRP leaders who, according to the president, had been associated with
previous attacks of these violent gangs known as Hezbollahis that “if these attacks
continue, I will go to the people. Nothing is more dangerous for revolution than a
few people who decide that they want to act in a revolutionary manner. That is not
revolutionary, but counter-revolutionary” (Banisadr, 1980a, June 10/1359, Khordad
20). Despite his warnings, the gangs attacked the gathering. During his speech at the
event, he therefore said:
When freedom has become so limited that even the president of a country cannot speak,
then God help us…I prefer to be killed at the criminal hands of these club-wielders in the
hope that our country does away with such methods once for all. (Banisadr, 1981a, February
4/1360, 1359, Bhaman 15)
As the attack against participants continued, he asked the people attending to expel
them. This led to the arrest of many of the attackers, and as their weapons and iden-
tity cards were seized, Banisadr read out their names and organizational affiliations
to the audience – excluding members of the Revolutionary Guards, as the guards
were part of the defense against the Iraqi army which had attacked Iran 6 month
before, and he did not want such a revelation to affect the war effort (Ahmadi,
2003/1380). It emerged that all belonged to different Revolutionary Committees or
were IRP members (1981, March 9). Five years later, when the regime felt secure in
its power, a 1000-page report on the results of the judiciary investigation into this
event was published. In it, the judiciary investigators for the first time admitted,
admirably and in much detail, how the IRP and other revolutionary organizations
had planned and executed attacks against the president of the country:
If the 14 Esfand [5 March 1981] event [the anniversary of Mussadegh’s death and when the
president’s supporters were attacked while he was delivering a speech] would have taken
place without the presence of revolutionary institutions and the thundering cry of Hezbollah,
and if the 25 Khordad [June 1981] event [when a demonstration by the supporters of the
president was violently attacked] would have passed without the attacks of the revolution’s
devotees, if and if […] for certain we would not be where we are now. (Ardebili, 1985/1364,
pp. 488–522)
Thus, the act of the president to maintain law and order and confront its violators at
this event, irrespective of who they were, was an exercise of constitutional duty and
cannot be seen as an incompetent act. Had he done otherwise, on the other hand, a
case for incompetence might have been made.
6
Mohammad Mussadegh was Iranian prime minister from 1951–1953, when he was overthrown in
a CIA-engineered coup. The ruling clergy were opponents of Mussadegh; Banisadr was his
advocate.
168 M. Delkhasteh
I ncompetence for Opposing the Execution and Torture

of Prisoners
Soon after the revolution the executions of some of the members of Shah’s regime
started. Bazargan, the Prime Minister, Banisadr whom at the time had no official
position (his first official position was when he became a member of Revolutionary
Council, in March 1979), and some other leading intellectuals tried to stop it.
However, when he became the president, he tried hard to use his position in order to
stop the executions and exposed the existence of torture in prisons. This, also, was
used as another reason for his incompetency:
Mr. Banisadr, from the base of America’s line [i.e., pro-American] opposes and regrets the
Revolutionary Courts. These are the exact words of Mr. Banisadr who asked why from the
first day we did not defend the human rights of the accused so we’ve got where we are now.
This is the word of Mr. Banisadr. Asking why, when the Revolutionary Courts issued capital
punishment for people like Hoveyda [one of the Shah’s prime ministers], Nasiri [a general
who was the head of the Shah’s Savak organization), Khosrodad [another general] and other
animals like them, and executed them, Banisadr asks why we did not defend the human
rights of them, so we’ve got where we are now. Where the courts are taken to [Khalkhali, a
religious judge who was appointed by Khomeini,] interrupts him and says: ‘two or three
times he came but we did not listen to him’ – and the MPs laugh). (Musavi Khoeiniha,
Mashroohe Mozakerate Majles-e Shoray-e Eslami, First term, 1981, Session 168, p. 6)
[Banisadr has said] that freedom in Iran is completely suppressed, despite the Red Cross
Report7 and the commission for investigation; he has spread rumours of torture all over the
world and in belief portrays the regime as being worse than the Shah’s regime. This is one
of the main statements by Banisadr. Just listen to his interview with Le Matin. Mr.
Banisadr states:
Now law doesn’t exist anymore, like before they arrest people, do torture and give torture.
A Commission for investigation into it was formed and they released a ridiculous report;
the human does not have any right; they arrest him and like rubbish get rid of him...
(Seyed Ali Khamenei, Mashroohe Mozakerate Majles-e Shoray-e Eslami, First term,
1981, Session 168, p. 6)
[He] not only put the faults under a magnifying glass; furthermore, he would stick faults to
the system which did not even exist. The issue of torture is one of those things which all the
foreign radios were quoting from him and had based their information on his interviews and
talks. (Akbar Velayati, Mashroohe Mozakerate Majles-e Shoray-e Eslami, First term, 1981,
Session 168, p. 6)
[He] calls Tazir8 in the Revolutionary Courts, torture, then saying it out loud so it provides
excuses for the counter-revolutionaries inside and outside of the country. We cannot say that
7
The Red Cross report concerned the treatment of Iraqi prisoners by the Iranian army. The report
praised the Iranian army for their treatment. The reason for the humanistic treatment of the Iraqi
prisoners was Banisadr’s order, as commander in chief, that the army treat these prisoners humanely
and observe the Geneva Convention. Khamenei’s reference to the Red Cross report is irrelevant
here as Banisadr had exposed the torture of Iranians in prisons and not prisoners of war.
8
“Most other offenses in Islamic law are called taʿzīr crimes (discretionary crimes), and their pun-
ishment is left to the discretion of the qāzī (judge), whose options are often limited to traditional
this has competency for the post of president. (Ayatollah Khalkhali, Mashroohe Mozakerate
Banisadr, by accepting western democracy, is negating Velayat-e-Faqih, and by accepting

so-called human rights he protests at the execution of (Mrs) Farokhro-Parsa and calls Tazir
torture and calls the bill of Qisas9 inhumane. (Masumi, Mashroohe Mozakerate Majles-e
Shoray-e Eslami, First term, 1981, Session 168, p. 2)
According to the constitution:

All forms of torture for the purpose of extracting confession or acquiring information are
forbidden. Compulsion of individuals to testify, confess, or take an oath is not permissible;
and any testimony, confession, or oath obtained under duress is devoid of value and cre-
dence. The violation of this article is liable to punishment in accordance with the law. (C of
IRI, Article 38) (C of IR, 1979c)
Therefore, it was the president’s duty to expose any act of torture and try to prevent
it. An extensive report by Amnesty International in 1979 publicized the widespread
use of executions and torture in Iran (Amnesty International, 1980). Banisadr’s
office provided the organization with information about over 400 cases of torture.
Before that, in an effort to stop torture by exposing it on the first anniversary of the
revolution in 1980, Banisadr addressed a major gathering, asking:
Is it not a fact that, according to our constitution, the use of torture is forbidden? Where, and
in which religion and in which type of Islam, in which Islamic country, has the state had six
different types of prisons? We have become worse than the former regime. Why are they not
shut down? They all should be shut down. Islam does not create so many different systems
aimed at terrorisation. Why are committees not formed to investigate this? Why, within an
Islamic regime, have the life and integrity of people become so worthless that people get
arrested, and then disappear without a trace or are executed in the blink of an eye? The
judiciary system should stop being an instrument of power. Hussein’s uprising was aimed
against this approach, and that is why he was martyred.10 (in Ardebili, 1985/1364, p. 331)
Therefore, his opposition to torture and his attempts to stop it through its exposure
was a fulfilment of his constitutional duty rather than evidence of incompetence.
forms (imprisonment or corporal punishment).“(Punishment in Islamic law, 2007)

9
“The code instituted a system that embraced the form and content of Islamic law, including a
series of traditional punishments such as retributions (Arabic qiṣāṣ) for murder and other violent
crimes wherein the nearest relative of a murdered party may, if the court approves, take the life of
the killer. “(Iran: Justice of Iran, 1999)
10
Imam Hussein was the third Shia imam who, with a number of followers, rose against the tyran-
nical, newly established Omavid dynasty in the seventh century B.C. They were martyred by
Yazid’s army (the Khalif at the time). Hussein’s martyrdom is seen by the Shia as the highest form
of uprising for justice against tyranny.
170 M. Delkhasteh
Incompetence for “Being Arrogant”
The charge of being arrogant was constantly made by many of his opponents. That
was also used as another reason for his incompetency.
He was behaving with such arrogance and so egoistically that everybody could see that.
(Akbar Velayati, Mashroohe Mozakerate Majles-e Shoray-e Eslami, First term, 1981,
Session 167, p. 8)
[Banisadr’s] self-centeredness and selfishness… (Mohamad Mehdi Jaffari, Mashroohe

Mozakerate Majles-e Shoray-e Eslami, First term, 1981, Session 167, p. 10)
I had put aside the arrogance and more arrogance and whatever I knew about this man.
However I will not forget his initial interaction and the way he got the decree [of presi-
dency] from Imam [Khomeini].11 (Seyed Ali Khamenei, Mashroohe Mozakerate Majles-e
Shoray-e Eslami, First term, 1981, Session 168, p. 2)
Whether Banisadr was arrogant is irrelevant here as such a subjective attribute can-
not be used as a reason for incompetency as it has no legal base or point of reference
in the constitution and existing law.
Incompetence for Opposing Pro-Khomeini’s Endorsement
During Shah’s rule, as the regime was trying to create a cult of personality of the
Shah, the television and radio would start and end their program with the national
anthem which was about the glorification of the Shah. Also, at news time, the news
always would start with anything that the Shah had done in that day, even the most
trivial things. Soon after the revolution, the same policy was followed and exacer-
bated and this time about Khomeini. Banisadr, who had already written a book
called “Cult of Personality,” had a critical view toward such policy. So, this also
became another reason as the proof of his incompetency:
11
He refers to Banisadr’s refusal to kiss Khomeini’s hand when Khomeini handed him the decree,
as well as the way he treated the signed decree of his presidency by Khomeini (instead of reading
it, he put it on the table and made his own speech). In an interview (13 February 2014), I asked
Banisadr to explain these behaviours. He responded: “When Khomeini entered the hall in the
hospital, where he was recovering from a heart attack, and I saw him pale and weak, I was over-
whelmed with emotion and kissed his hand. However, when he gave me the decree in which he
endorsed my presidency, I ignored it and without reading it put it on the table. The reason for that
was because I did not accept such an endorsement. People overwhelmingly had elected me and that
was the only endorsement which I needed and respected. Later, I did not even pick the letter up in
order to keep it. I learned after that one of the army commanders had picked it up. As far as I know
it is still filed in the army’s headquarters.”
You [Banisadr] said that the situation in the country hasn’t changed and it is like the Shah’s
time, only during the Shah’s time they were singing anthems of monarchy twice a day and
now from morning till night are singing the anthem of...what can I say? [MPs: ‘say it, say
it sir’] singing Khomeini’s anthem, today from morning till night they are singing
Kohmeini’s anthem [one MP: ‘God damn him’). (Emami Kashani, Mashroohe Mozakerate
Here, the president is exercising his freedom of speech and expressing his opinion,
hence exercising the rights that are recognized in the constitution. Not only can this
not be used as evidence for the president’s incompetence, but it puts the Parliament
under scrutiny for presenting it as evidence, which is in violation of the
constitution.
Incompetency for Trying to Establish Absolute Dictatorship
The accusation that the president was trying to turn himself into an absolute despot
is best pronounced by Ali Khamenei with much deeper effect as apart from being
one of the leading MPs; he was also the member of Revolutionary Council and the
Friday prayer of Tehran: “Mr Banisadr...always was in search of absolute power”
(Khamenei, Mashroohe Mozakerate Majles-e Shoray-e Eslami, First term, 1981,
Session 168, p. 21). At a Friday prayer speech, he elaborated on this:
The problem with the previous devilish regime [monarchy] was that, internally, all the
power was concentrated in the Shah... Mr Banisadr was inclined to return the country of
Iran with the revolution it has made and with all the martyrs it has given to the time of
monarchy. At the time, the Shah was at the helm of all of the powers, and today he wanted
to be in that position. With the use of legal powers in the Council of Revolution he has given
himself limitless authority. The documents and evidence of these subjects will be provided
for the people so they can see that he was moving our society towards absolute dictator-
ship.12 (Khamenei, 1981; in Ardebili, 1985/1364, p. 701)
When Khamenei accused the president of trying to establish a monarchy and abso-
lute dictatorship, he said: “there are documents to prove this” and that “the docu-
ments and evidence of these subjects will be provided for the people so they can see
12
Keyhan newspaper, 20 June 1981 [30 khordad 1360]. Still, soon after Khomeini’s death Khamenei
became the absolute ruler of the country, enjoying legal powers which even Khomeini did not
have. For the speech, see Khamenei’s Friday prayer, 19 June 1981, quoted in Ardebili, Ghaeleh
chahardahe esfand, p. 701.
172 M. Delkhasteh
that he was moving our society towards absolute dictatorship”13 After 38 years, he
has not only failed to present one single document but himself had become a
supreme leader with absolute power. Khamenei’s power as occupier of the position
of Velayate- Motlageh-Faqhih is so extensive that in 1989 Aytoallah Azari Qomi, a
member of the Council of Guardians, declared that “Vali-e-Faqhi has total authority
over people’s life and property” (Qome, 1989, July 10/1368, Tir 19).
There is also ample evidence which demonstrates that the major reason for the
president’s opposition against the IRP and its allies was his defense of freedoms
rather than an assertion of power. Hashemi Rafsanjani, the head of the Parliament at
the time, charged Banisadr with “copying Mussadiq” (Rafsanjani, 1999/1378,
p. 123), the democratic Iranian prime minister (1951–1953) who was overthrown by
a CIA- and MI5-engineered coup. When Stalinist organizations like the Tudeh Party
and the Islamic Republic Party fearful of Banisadr’s popularity within the army
accused him of becoming the “Napoleon of Iran,” his response was: “if I would have
sought despotic power, then everything would be easy; I just wouldn’t oppose what
is happening and certainly you could find nobody better than me to legitimise these
deeds” (Banisadr, 1980b, November 19/1359, Aban 29; See also Ardebili,
1985/1364).
Freedom remained a regular theme in Banisadr’s speeches and writings during
his presidency:
My defence of freedom is my defence of independence and Islam. If they want to establish
despotism under the name of Islam, then, what will be left of Islam? If I was not faithful to
my belief, who better than me could adjust himself with the rule of force and despotism and
ride the wave? (Banisadr, 1980c, December 11/1359, Azar 20)
He also argued that the “strangulation of media is the precondition for the establish-
ment of despotism” (Banisadr, 8 April 1981b/1360, Farvardin 19), and when the
IRP accused the opposition press of conspiracy, he responded: “criticism is not
conspiracy, but requisite for preventing conspiracy” (Banisadr, 1979a, April
18/1358, Farvardin 29). This was because “the media has an overwhelming duty,
which is to be critical” (Banisadr, 1981d, April 25/1360, Ordibhesht 5), an approach
based on his belief that criticism is the cornerstone of Islam as a discourse of free-
dom. “Islam,” he said, “is a religion of criticism and protest” (Banisadr, 1979b,
November 22/1358, Azar 1). During the war when the IRP tried to close down
opposition newspapers in 1981 under the pretext of the ongoing war with Iraq,
hence control of information, as Commander in Chief Banisadr opposed them, stat-
ing: “freedoms cannot be eliminated with the excuse of war” (Banisadr, 1981e, May
9/1360, Ordibehesht 19). Later, he argued that protecting freedoms helped rather
than hindered the war effort (Banisadr, 1981g, May 31/1360, Khordad 10). He con-
tinued his defense saying:
In the history of Iran it is unprecedented that the leader, just as he is worried about war and
enemy attack, is even more concerned about the attack of freedom-devouring wolves on the
fundamental freedom of people, and uses all the power he has to prevent them from destroy-
ing these freedoms. (Banisadr, 1980d, December 18/1359, Azar 27.)
13
ibid.
Therefore, there is not a single evidence which can support the accusation of trying
to become a dictator, while there are plethora of evidence which points at the oppo-
site direction.
How Legal Was the Process of Removing the President?
One of the main characteristics of a legal act is the observation of the law in the
process which leads to its establishment. Any illegality in this process makes an act
illegal. Given the ambiguity surrounding the legality of the removal of the president,
it is necessary to investigate the parliamentary process which led to the removal of
the Iranian president in June 1981.
One underutilized source of information about this period is the memoir of
Hashemi Rafsanjani (1999/1378), who at the time was the head of the Parliament
and played a leading role in the removal of the president. In it, he reveals how the
process of removing the president started.
Mr. Ahmad (Khomeini’s son) telephoned and said, ‘Imam [Khomeini] has said that the
Parliament must make a decision about Mr. Banisadr as soon as possible. Today Banisadr
has made an arrogant response to the Imam’s statement. It is obvious that he does not want
to come along. (Rafsanjani, 1999/1378)
The subtext of the message was clear: to remove Banisadr. However, none of the
legal powers of leadership granted to Khomeini according to Article 110 of the
Constitution gave him the authority to instruct the head of the Parliament to start the
process which led to the removal of the president (C of IRI) (C of IR 1979a). In
other words, by suggesting that the head of the Parliament begin a process, he had
violated the constitution. Rafsanjani, instead of reminding Khomeini that he had no
legal right to make such a demand, immediately oversaw an urgent bill for Banisadr’s
removal for “according to the numerous and repeated violation of the Constitution
by Mr. Banisadr, the president” (Rafsanjani, 1999/1378, p. 154). Within 3 hours
after the phone call, 130 MPs had signed the bill, showing that the Parliament was
not an independent branch of the state but a rubber stamp, an instrument of
Khomeini’s power (Rafsanjani, 1999/1378).
Furthermore, according to Article 123 of the constitution, “the President is
obliged to sign legislation approved by the Assembly or the result of a referendum,
after the (related) legal procedures have been completed and have been communi-
cated to him. After signing, he must forward it to the responsible authorities for
implementation” (C of IRI) (C of IR 1979b). When MP Ezatollah Sahabi, during the
debate for the president’s incompetency, reminded Rafsanjani of this article,
he asked:
According to the law which was passed this month, the Parliament gave a five-day deadline
for the president to sign the legislation and if he didn’t after passing its legal procedure it
becomes legally official…my question is whether this procedure is being carried out.
(Mashroohe Mozakerate Majles-e Shoray-e Eslami, First term, 1981, Session 167, p. 4)
174 M. Delkhasteh
Rafsanjani responded by saying;

You should remember that in urgent cases, the deadline is 48 hours and not five days. On
Wednesday evening [four days earlier, on 17 June] we sent the decree of the parliament to
the office of the president, handed it to the officials who were there and also attached it to
the office”. (Mashroohe Mozakerate Majles-e Shoray-e Eslami, First term, 1981, Session
167, p. 4)
However, according to an official report of the Judiciary, on 10 June Khomeini had

removed Banisadr as commander in chief of the armed forces, and Banisadr’s presi-
dential office and house had been ransacked and occupied by the revolutionary
guards and komiteh [urban guards].
The Imam’s hokm [order of removal of Banisadr] was enough for Banisadr to go into hiding
and from the moment the decree (hokm) was published, in effect, Banisadr was deposed
from all of his authorities and his home and work place [presidential office] were occupied
by the revolutionary courts and Komitehs” (Ardebili, 1985/1364, p. 686).
In other words, a week before Rafanjani told the parliament that the decree was
being sent to the president’s office, the office was already under the occupation of
the revolutionary guards, and all officials in the office had either gone into hiding or
were being arrested; some were later executed. So, there were no official so the
decree could be handed to. Rafsanjani, the head of the parliament, was thus lying to
the parliament.
Therefore, as we could see the legal process of removing the president was also
violated.
How Does the Iranian Constitution Define Incompetence?
The Iranian constitution does not specify precise characteristics of political incom-
petence. However, there had been discussions about the issue within the Assembly
of Experts for Constitution when they were writing the constitution in 1978. Reasons
included physical weakness and incapacitation, weakness in talent or a low level of
intelligence, violation of the Constitution, betraying the country, and committing a
crime (Soorate…dovom, 1985/1364).
Using these criteria of incompetence, none of the reasons presented by MPs as
evidence of incompetence were remotely related to the criteria which were specified
by the Assembly of Experts for Constitution 1979a. This may explain why the IRP’s
attempt to remove the president through the Supreme Court had failed. While this
court had the authority to remove the president on the basis of any violation of the
constitution (C of IR, Article 110), according to Banisadr, they had.
…initially…tried to [remove the president] through the Supreme Court on grounds of vio-
lating the constitution. However, the members of the Supreme Court collectively refused to
do so. They argued that (a) he has not violated anything [of the constitution] and (b) he is
calling everyone to implement the law...it was after [their failed attempt] that they replaced
these independent-minded judges with submissive ones. (Banisadr, interview by the author,
2014, March 25).
A separate account which verifies Banisadr’s argument is an official report by the

Judiciary introduced by Ayatollah Musavi Ardebili, the country’s public prosecutor
at the time. He presents five reasons for not removing the president through Supreme
Court, among them:
The court in Judiciary in those days were not ready as the judges were not cleansed yet and
all of those who like minded of president and supporters of liberalism and small
organizations/goroohakhaa (a derogatory term for organizations like Mojaheddin and the
Marxist Fedaeeyaan organization.) Were at top jobs in courts...etc. (Ardebili, 1985/1364,
p. 610).
The Conditions of the Removal of the President
In order to remove the president constitutionally, certain legal conditions must be in

place, among them open space for debate: a free media, the absence of insecurity,
fear, terrorization and threat, assassination attempts, and execution of the actors
which are involved in the process. In the case of Banisadr’s removal, none of these
conditions were present:
Around 2 months prior to the removal of the president, for example, attacks
against political opponents of the IRP increased. In one daily newspaper report to
Iranians,14 Banisadr revealed an army intelligence report which reported that violent
attacks on opposition groups were being carried out at a rate of 1200 a week
(Banisadr, 1981c, April 11/1360, Ordibehesht 9). Two weeks before Banisadr’s
removal, the last eight remaining opposition newspapers in the country were shut
down, including the president’s newspaper, Enghelabe-Eslami, which had the high-
est national circulation at the time. Many of its writers were arrested; some, like
Hussein Navab Safavi, were executed. Its chief editor, Mohamd Jaffari, was arrested
and imprisoned for around 6 years (Mohammad Jafari, interview by the author, 20
October, 2006).15 Ten days before Banisadr’s removal by the Majles, Khomeini
removed him from the post of commander-in-chief. As mentioned already, accord-
ing to an official report of the judiciary, his office and house were also raided by the
Revolutionary Guards at this time. Six days before the removal of the president,
there were attacks on and intimidation of pro-Banisadr MPs outside the Majles.
Ahmad Salamatian, for example, was severely beaten and barely escaped with his
life when the police arrived (Bozorgian, June 14, 2012).
When these intimidations failed, pro-president MP Ahmad Gazanfarpour read
out a message from the president in the parliament in which he revealed that Saddam
14
In order to keep people informed during his presidency, he published daily reports about his
activities, explaining his actions in the fields of military, economy, politics, and culture; he some-
times also gave summaries of the books he was reading or visits to his mother.
15
Jafari was a leader of a student organisation in Europe from 1971–78 and chief editor of
Enghelabe Eslami from 1979–81. His release from prison became possible when Ayatollah
Montazeri intervened.
176 M. Delkhasteh
Hussein had agreed to end the Iran–Iraq war and that he [Banisadr] had been pre-
pared to sign a ceasefire that was prevented by the IRP’s attempt to remove him
from office. He also explained the consequences of reinstating the dictatorship and
its disastrous effects on the country and asked people to resist the impending despo-
tism. We see in Rafsanjani’s memoir that this angered Khomeini: “Imam heard it on
the radio and criticized the reading of the message from a parliamentary platform”
(Rafsanjani, 1999/1378). After this, Revolutionary Guards tried to assassinate both
Salamatian and Gazanfarpour as they left the building; they were rescued by the
president’s guards. Rafsanjani refers to this in his memoir as “the pulling of guns by
a guard” (1999/1378). On the whole, they tried to assassinate Salamatian three
times (Salamation, interview by the author, 26 May 2005).16 Soon after, Gazanfarpour
was arrested and tortured and spent years in prison; Salamatian escaped to France.
After Khomeini removed Banisadr as commander in chief, the president’s house
and office were attacked and bombed. Rafsanjani admits this, but is vague about
who it was responsible: “Near sunset, the horrendous sound of an explosion was
heard, [and it] later on became clear that a bomb exploded in the yard of Banisadr’s
house” (Rafsanjani, 1999/1378, p. 153). Ozra Husseini, Banisadr’s wife, described
the incident in more detail: “our house was surrounded by thugs and club wielders,
which the IRP called hezbollahis…a few times, they threw grenades into the yard of
our house and made life insufferable” (Rusta et al., 2008).
During this time, many members of the president’s office were arrested. When
the office was attacked, staff who could not escape were beaten, arrested, and
imprisoned. Some, including Mohamad Zolfaqari, Qaemi, and Rashid Sadr-al-
Hefazi, were executed (Rusta et al., 2008; See also Baradaraan, n.d.). Some, like
Manouchehr Masudi, a human rights legal advisor who played an important role in
exposing the spread of torture in prisons, were soon to be executed. Across the
country, other Offices of People’s Cooperation with the President were attacked,
with staff arrested, tortured, and some later executed. People who had provided
shelter for the president when he went into hiding while still president were also
arrested and executed (including Asgha Laghaei from the Iran party, whose father
committed suicide after his execution) (Az selseleh …edame ou, 2013). People who
demonstrated in support of the president in Iranian cities were attacked by violent
gangs organized by the IRP and their allies; they were severely beaten and arrested,
and some were killed. The abovementioned judiciary report revealed the role of this
street violence in removing the president on two main occasions, the anniversary of
Mussadegh’s death (at an event at Tehran University on 5 March 1981) and the final
days of overthrowing the president at the National Front headquarters on 15
June 1981.
During the 2-day debate about Banisadr’s competence in the parliament, the par-
liament was filled inside by hezbollahis threatening to kill whoever dared speak in
favour of the president, and surrounded outside by the same people chanting
“Banisadr, anti-God, should be executed” (Banisadr zedo-allah-edaam bayaad
16
Rafsanjani also refers to this as “the shooting incident”; see Rafsanjani, Memoir, p. 153.
gardad). Ayatollah Mohamadi Gilani, the head of the Revolutionary Courts when
Banisadr was president, issued seven decrees for Banisadr’s execution. At risk,
opposition MPs were afraid to attend the parliament, and those already inside did
not dare to support the president. Of the ten MPs who had registered to speak in
support of the president, half (including Hashem Sabagian and Mojtahede
Shabestari) fearful of the consequences did not speak, and others (like Hojati
Kermani, Azam Taleghani, and Ezaolah Sahabi) changed positions and asked for
the removal of the president. The only MP who supported the president at this time
was Ali Akbar Moin-Far. However, during his speech spectators created such an
atmosphere of terror that he ended with a verse from the Koran which is always
spoken at the time of death (“To Allah we belong and to Him we shall return”)
(Koran, 2:156), which, given the circumstances, alluded to his readiness to die as a
result of what he said. He was interrupted with shouts and threats, but argued that…
in the gatherings in the streets and around the parliament, the defence of Banisadr is equated
with being opposed to Imam [Khomeini] and revolution and are ready to shed his blood…if
anybody dares to mention the name of Banisadr or make the slightest defence, then he is
punished in the severest manner...Banisadr’s friends can’t enter the parliament without
endangering their lives (Sokhan…dar Khordad 1360, 2017, December 4).
A few days after this speech was given, Hashemi Rafsanjani, then head of the par-
liament whose duties included the protection of the security and freedom of speech
of the MPs, boasted about this atmosphere of terror: “and now the real force, which
was Hezbollah, had entered the front, the real force of Imam’s line. There were
these hezbollahis who surrounded the parliament and inflicted so much suffering on
[the opposition] MPs” (Rafsanjani, 1981, June 26).
Finally, a year before the coup, a tape made by Hassan Aya, a member of the
IRP’s Central Committee and its political secretary, revealed that the IRP was plan-
ning to overthrow Banisadr.
Tell everyone to stand strong and firm, soon the wave will change…we have a plan so that
even Banisadr’s father cannot do a thing. […] This time he cannot resist like last time…we
have to act through available channels…as the parliament begins its work it will stand
against the president…Banisadr is a danger to this revolution and in order to neutralise it
something should be done…We are not alone, Imam is also with us. (Ardebili, 1985/1364).
In the months that followed, as described here, opposition newspapers were shut
down; violence was inflicted on the president’s supporters by the IRP, its allies, and
Revolutionary Guards all over the country; the office and house of the president
were attacked, bombed, and eventually occupied by the Revolutionary Guards; the
president was forced to go into hiding and the people who sheltered him were exe-
cuted; decrees for his execution were already being issued; the staff of the President’s
office and newspaper were arrested, tortured, executed, or in hiding; pro-president
MPs were attacked by violent gangs both inside and outside parliament, and assas-
sination attempts were made against them. In these conditions, it is possible to argue
that the removal of the president was a coup d’état.
178 M. Delkhasteh
Conclusion
This paper has offered a close reading of documents, interviews, and memoirs relat-
ing to the debates held in the Iranian Majles on June 20 and 21 1981 to expanding
the interpretation of the discourse surrounding Abolhassan Banisadr’s competence
as president, in the context of story of Iranian revolution and its democratic spirit
which led to the election of Iran’s first president and his fierce defense of freedoms
against its enemies. An examination of the grounds of the reasons given by MPs for
his incompetence, the process of his removal, and the political conditions of this
process suggest that the parliament’s decision to remove the first elected president
of Iran for “numerous and repeated violations of Mr. Banisadr, the president, of the
Constitution” (Rafsanjani, 1999/1378, p. 154) was a coup d’état. In the documents
examined in this paper, the MPs failed to present even a single case to support this
claim or Rafsanjani’s statement that the “removal of Banisadr was a legal motion.”
In fact, the charge of the Parliament of “numerous and repeated violations of Mr.
Banisadr, the president, of the Constitution” suits the action of the Parliament in the
process of removing the president. However, this unconstitutional process was not
only a coup against the president, but against the republican dimensions of the 1979
revolution. So, it stifled the democratic tendencies of the Iranian revolution and
marked the beginning of a paradigm shift in elite struggles for power within the
regime. The evidence presented of Banisadr’s incompetence reveals not only that
there was a struggle between the president and his opponents but also a struggle
between democratic and authoritarian principles of governance within the state.
After his unconstitutional removal, subsequent struggles were confined to factions
of the dictatorial regime, and from that time until the present day, no candidate has
been able to stand for political election without being first approved by the Guardian
Council.
The question is why, despite this evidence which suggests that the first elected
president of Iran was unconstitutionally removed from office through a coup, no
scholars have described the process in this way. This paper argues that recognizing
the coup will make subsequent governments unconstitutional. It is possible that
both conservative and reformist members of Iran’s ruling regime have an interest in
portraying Banisadr’s removal as legal and constitutional: if they participated in the
coup, and recognizing the events as a coup would render their positions unconstitu-
tional as well. Apart from the political and ideological forces which clearly bear on
this debate, such unbending resistance to the entrance of this narrative into the lit-
erature can be understood in terms of the discourse which needs to make such an
event invisible. An alteration of the broader discourse framing these events would
transform the foundation of existing scholarship of these events. Albert Einstein
once asked his fellow physicist Niels Bohr whether he believed that “the moon does
not exist if nobody is looking at it.” Bohr replied: “he would not be able to prove that
it does.” And the philosopher George Berkley once asked, “If a tree falls in a forest
and nobody is there to hear it, does it make a sound”? The answer is no, since in
order to hear a sound there should be a listener.
The historical question is, if a thing takes place within social reality and is
observed but those who guard the borders of “what is permissible knowledge”
refuse to acknowledge it, what happens to this experience? Foucault was interested
in what he called “subjugated knowledges,” which he described in two forms: first,
“historical contents that have been buried or masked in functional coherences or
formal systematizations” and, second, “knowledges that have been disqualified as
nonconceptual knowledges, as insufficiently elaborated knowledges: naïve knowl-
edges, hierarchically inferior knowledges, knowledges that are below the required
level of erudition or scientificity.” The question is how to bring such knowledge to
the fore. Foucault argued that archaeological and genealogical methods of critique
can “desubjugate” these historical knowledges in order to “to set them free, or in
other words to enable them to oppose and struggle against the coercion of a unitary,
formal and scientific theoretical discourse” (Foucault, 2004).
Thomas Kuhn, in his ground-breaking analysis of paradigm shifts in scientific
knowledge, demonstrated that shifts in scholarly consensus of this sort emerge from
continuous struggle as the beliefs and institutions of “normal science” depend on
the consensus for their survival. It seems that such determination is also needed to
challenge the consensus within political and academic discourse. The battle to trou-
ble the consensus on the nature of president Banisadr’s removal in 1981 can be
fought by exposing the anomalies between the existing historical consensus and the
alternative interpretations. This work fundamentally transforms our understanding
of the Iranian revolution by enabling invisible, unconsidered, and untold stories be
told, unearthing the complexities of a stolen narrative of the Iranian revolution that
has conditioned the history of the revolution and its consequences to the present day.
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Mahmood Delkhasteh completed his PhD in Political Sociology from the London School of
Economics and Political Science in 2007. He is a political activist, specializing in Iranian and
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sparrows of freedom, the untold story of Iranian Revolution.
Decolonizing Pakistani International
Relations
Ahmed Waqas Waheed
Abbreviations
HEC Higher Education Commission

IR International Relations
SCI Scientific Citation Index
SSCI Social Science Citation Index
Introduction
Ever since Stanley Hoffmann (1977) exposed International Relations as a hegemon-

ised discipline, there has been a growing trend among International Relations schol-
ars to unveil the knowledge and power structures which sustain the hegemony of the
West in knowledge production processes. Among the various trajectories which this
discourse has taken, such as post-colonialism, post-structuralism, sociology of
International Relations, etc., there has been a notable emergence of scholarly work
which seeks to situate the discussion on International Relations by focusing on the
colonial origins and legacies of the discipline. By problematizing the history, ontol-
ogy, epistemology, and methodology, which mainstream International Relations
promotes, this scholarly community frames ‘the distortions and exclusions of main-
stream IR in relation to a “colonial matrix of power” that reproduces colonial forms
of domination in international politics and contributes to ongoing Eurocentrism in
the discipline’ (Tucker, 2018, 216). These ‘decolonial’ voices in International
A. W. Waheed (*)
Department of Government and Public Policy, National University of Sciences and
Technology, Islamabad, Pakistan
e-mail: ahmadwaqas@s3h.nust.edu.pk
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-41965-2_10
184 A. W. Waheed
Relations go beyond disciplinary critiques and have often elaborated on strategies

through which the coloniality of IR might be overcome. However, while the coloni-
ality of knowledge is a global phenomenon, it operates on two planes, i.e. firstly, the
means and methods through which coloniality is imposed as a global standard on
the (post)colonial societies and, secondly, how the coloniality is received and sus-
tained by dominant structures in the (post)colonial spaces. Each (post)colonial soci-
ety experienced colonialism differently and developed their local knowledge
structures in ways which harmonized transnational coloniality with indigenous cul-
tures. Hence any effort to decolonize International Relations within a (post)colonial
space has to be a targeted agenda which must unveil the concrete practices and
processes which contribute to the marginalization of local knowledges and the
reproduction of colonial patterns of racial domination.
This chapter uses ideas borrowed from Liberation Psychology to expose the
coloniality embedded in Pakistani International Relations. It draws its inspiration
from the idea of Conscientization whose main characteristics are ‘(1) It is an active,
critical – ethical process starting from the victim’s perspective. (2) It produces a
different, new conception of one’s society and a new worldview. (3) It includes
denaturalizing, de-ideologizing, and de-alienating processes. (4) It starts by doubt-
ing and problematizing what seems to be natural. (5) It is oriented toward social
transformation. (6) It fosters commitment and participation. (6) It is liberating’
(Montero, 2011). This chapter lays emphasis on the first three characteristics in
order to denaturalize Pakistani International Relations. The chapter first explores
various themes of coloniality within Liberation Psychology before it moves on to
provide a detailed understanding of how coloniality is sustained in International
Relations through global knowledge production processes, and lastly. it demystifies
the processes through which coloniality is mitigated, negotiated, and standardized
within Pakistani International Relations.
An Overview of Liberation Psychology
Liberation Psychology developed as a social movement in various parts of the world

which had undergone colonialism. Since the oppression purported by colonialism
manifested quite similarly in different regions, work on liberation psychology thus
encompassed scholars from different parts of the world, such as Fanon, Memmi,
Cabral, etc., sharing similar views. It was not that these scholars and their theoreti-
cally aligned peers were aware that they were doing liberation psychological work.
Their works were part of a wider social movement which aspired to decolonize the
subjugated and oppressed. Liberation Psychology as a theoretical framework was
first developed by Martin-Baro (1986) and has continued to develop over time
through substantial contributions of scholars such as Montero (2007) and Gaborit
(2007). Once viewed from the lens provided by these theoretical ideas, it is argued
that early scholars were unknowingly using the principles and methods of liberation
psychology in different parts of the world (Torres Rivera, 2020). Liberation
Decolonizing Pakistani International Relations 185
Psychology is a theoretical approach which aims at understanding and ameliorating

conditions of oppression among individuals and groups (Martín-Baró, 1994). It
forms part of a larger body of decolonization works, both in theory and practice. In
doing so it pledges affinity to some key decolonial ideas such as the continued
prevalence of colonization, exploitation, and domination of the West over the rest;
the redundancy of Western ideas to non-western cultural, social, and political con-
texts; and a need to develop anti-oppressive knowledge which recognizes pluralities
of reality. In doing so Liberation Psychologists ‘address coloniality of power—how
colonizing systems of control, power, and privilege prevalent during colonization
continue to negatively impact individuals with a colonization history, affecting their
culture, knowledge, and systems of hierarchies’ (Comas-Diaz & Torres Rivera,
2020, 6). Most importantly though, they argue that the coloniality of power is intrin-
sically tied to the coloniality of knowledge.
As opposed to the objective-positivist leaning of much of Western knowledge,
Liberation Psychology premises its theoretical construction on a subjectivist-
constructivist understanding of knowledge. It accommodates the lived experiences
of the poor and the marginalized and understands knowledge to be ‘situated and
subjugated; that is, knowledge is understood depending on the personal privileges,
oppression and social position of the people involved’ (Torres Rivera, 2020, 44).
The dominance of discursive power and knowledge does not only occur between the
West and the rest but also finds itself manifesting between segments of the oppressed.
For instance, both Fanon and Alatas observed the propensity of segments of the
oppressed to emulate the oppressors. Alatas terms this phenomenon ‘Captive
Minds.’ He (Alatas, 1993, 308) argues that
Mental Captivity or the phenomenon of captive minds refers to a way of thinking that is
dominated by Western thought in an imitative and uncritical manner… The captive mind is
trained almost entirely in the Western sciences, reads the work of Western authors, and is
taught predominantly by Western teachers, either directly or through their works. The cap-
tive mind uncritically imitates Western Social Sciences.
Paulo Freire (1970), another decolonial thinker, who developed the pedagogy of the
oppressed, argued that oppressed people often find themselves in situations of pow-
erlessness and uncritically internalize, not only the oppressor’s consciousness but
also their dominant thinking and behaviour. Those among the oppressed who do
possess power, draw their powers from the status quo, and defend the status quo to
preserve their power. This implies that epistemic oppression happens not only
between the West and the rest but also between the segments of oppressed, where
one draws power from the colonial epistemic structures in place and the other is
subjugated and powerless in the face of these structures. The consequence of such
uncritical assimilation of Western knowledge in postcolonial societies results in the
marginalization of indigenous thought, popular wisdom, and ideological decon-
struction efforts. Another detrimental effect which follows the prevalence of colo-
nial structures is the gradual loss of historical memory.
Since the Western knowledge production processes are more disposed towards
works authored by western scholars, in effect then, the works of western authors
garner more prestige and consequently wider circulation. This means that most
186 A. W. Waheed
writings on histories of the previous colonies emanating from western corridors are
subjective and divorced from indigenous lived experiences of the oppressed. At the
same time, since the ‘captive minds’ possessing intellectual power through their
emulation of western knowledge episteme are busy in mimicking western knowl-
edge and consolidating an intellectual status quo, their works also continue to mar-
ginalize and ignore historical memories in their intellectual discourses. Liberation
Psychologists then believe that recovering lost historical memory plays a vital role
in the process of decolonization. In essence then, for the Liberation Psychologists
‘reclaiming one’s history, deideologising understandings of cultural truths, … and
using this process as a method for making sense of current oppressive circumstances
is critical consciousness. Critical consciousness is not only making one’s own real-
ity but also becoming awake’ (Torres Rivera, 2020, 48). Consequently, for Liberation
Psychologists, it is not enough that through the process of decolonization, new,
indigenous, alternative knowledges should be valorised but also that such knowl-
edges should follow critical consciousness, where the oppressed are provided a
deeper understanding of their condition of oppression by critically unveiling before
them the structures which sustain such oppressive regimen.
International Relations scholars (Capan, 2016; Jones, 2006; Picq, 2013; Sharma,
2021; Tucker, 2018) have recently begun questioning the Eurocentric nature of
knowledge dominating the discipline and in doing so share similar vantage points as
those of the anti-oppressive decolonial thinkers such as Mignolo (2002, 2010),
Quijano (2007, 2016), and Grosfoguel (2002). For instance, Jones (2006, 2) argues
that ‘the modern discipline of IR and its twentieth century trajectory is presented to
the newcomer in a huge number of textbooks and compilations. What is remarkably
absent from IR’s self-presentation…is awareness of its colonial and imperial roots’.
Capan (2016, 4) maintains that ‘the narrative of International Relations through
Western conceptions of Modernity works to silence the colonial past of International
Relations and the constitutive role of colonialism’. Sharma (2021, 28) claims that
‘the colonial logic of modernity silences alternatives as being non-credible, denying
visibility and validity to claims made counter to those propagated by its own hege-
monic position’. The growing call to decolonize International Relations is based on
the realization that there exists a ‘reproduction of colonial patterns of racial domina-
tion, hierarchization, and marginalization in the discipline’ which needs to be over-
come’ (Tucker, 2018, 215). Consequently, decolonization of International Relations
becomes a multiple level process which engages with colonialism and imperialism
and at its heart aims at unsettling and decentering Eurocentrism in its various mani-
festations which sustains the coloniality of knowledge and power.
Examining the contemporary International Relations discourse, Alejandro
(2019) identifies three key aspects of Eurocentrism: firstly, ‘the West’ as a ‘proac-
tive subject’ connotes how the South is deprived of its agency as it is considered a
passive object in comparison to ‘the West’ which is upheld as an ‘active subject’ of
world politics or as Capan (2016, 5) would argue: ‘The production of knowledge
and who gets to be the knower and who the known is an important component in
reproducing the coloniality International Relation’; second, ‘the West’ as the ‘only
one game in town’ refers to a teleological self-seeking West as being the centre
around which world politics naturally revolves; third, ‘the West’ as the ‘ideal nor-
mative referent’ standardizes and universalizes ‘Western’ practices and values and
renders diverse non-Western histories and experiences invalid (Alejandro, 2019). In
this way, Eurocentrism in International Relations becomes the epistemic locus of
coloniality, through which colonial forms of domination are sustained.
Decolonization in International Relations then opens up space for critically analys-
ing the continuation of Eurocentrism and ‘its constitutive role of the colonial past in
the formation of the present international system but also how colonial forms of
domination continue to operate in the (post)colonial present’ (Capan, 2016, 4). The
coloniality of knowledge through which eurocentrism derives much of its hege-
monic power is maintained through a colonial matrix of power which enables colo-
nial structures and processes, to produce and reproduce Eurocentric knowledge in
International Relations.
The hegemonic nature of Eurocentric knowledge is sustained through Western-
centric global structures and eurocentrism ‘is maintained alive in books, [and] in the
criteria for academic performance’ (Ibid, 3). Western standardized practices of pub-
lishing, the use of English as a primary language for academic qualification, and
knowledge gatekeeping processes continue to mire the (post)colonial world even
more deeply into Western practices and ideas. However, problematizing eurocen-
trism is not enough without examining the complacency of local scholars to pro-
grammatically and uncritically pursue Western ideals. As Alatas (2003, 602) argues:
If in the colonial past, academic imperialism was maintained via colonial power, today
academic neocolonialism is maintained via the condition of academic dependency. The
West’s monopolistic control of and influence over the social sciences in much of the Third
World are not determined in the first instance by force via colonial power but rather by the
dependence of Third World scholars and intellectuals on western social science in a variety
of ways.
A coherent understanding of a decolonization agenda in International Relations

must then first begin with unravelling the intricate web woven through the colonial-
ity of power and knowledge, while at the same time laying bare the unconscious
subscription of local agents to such hegemonic programs. However, though the
western knowledge standards have been normalized and naturalized globally, i.e.
they apply equally to all (post)colonial societies, the manner in which they have
been sustained by local structures and process is unique to each (post) colonial soci-
ety. In order to do so, Friere (1970) argues that the (post)colonial societies should
go through Conscientization. He argues that it is a ‘liberating process of conscious-
ness – mobilization that enables critical thinking about how we live and how the
world we live in is ordered’ (Montero, 2011, 2). Conscientization is not a tempo-
rally fixed process rather it is an ongoing process aiming to dehistoricise and decon-
textualize naturalized narratives, while being ‘continuously pressured by dominant
tendencies in a society subjugated by groups whose power resides in their economic
and official status. These ruling groups not only represent a different pole of opin-
ions and ideas; they also control the means of repression’ (Ibid, 3). In the case of
Pakistani International Relations then, the process of decolonization needs to
unravel the academic structure of Social Sciences which imposes dominant
188 A. W. Waheed
tendencies on a critically unaware academic fraternity. It also entails the unveiling

of indigenous locus of intellectual power dominated by ‘captive minds’ who con-
tinue to sustain Eurocentric knowledge architecture locally.
The ‘Global’ Imperial Structure of Knowledge Production
The divide in the global division of intellectual labour, within the discipline of
International Relations, has gained much attention recently. International Relations
scholars have scrutinized the imperial foundations and colonial potential of the disci-
pline (Acharya & Buzan, 2007; Aydinli & Mathews, 2000; Jones, 2006; Shilliam,
2021). Among these group of scholars, there is a tacit, and at times explicit, agreement
that the contemporary structure of the global knowledge production processes is a
‘result of European imperialism and American neoimperialism’ (Jackson, 2017, 34).
This imperial structure is veiled behind the neoliberalization of the global knowledge
economy. The academic capitalism which dictates intellectual labour normalizes
western standards of academic productivity trans-nationally and imposes upon the
non-western intellectuals, criteria of productivity, which reeks of the European impe-
rial past. This becomes all the more significant, as Canagarajah (2002, 37) argues that
‘the material, cultural and political sources of power… [and] the asymmetrical rela-
tionship between the center and periphery frame the salient features of geopolitical
realities’. In other words, the hegemony of western material power is produced and
reproduced through its ability to sustain intellectual dominance. The Western imperial
architecture that drives global knowledge production processes, while valorising
west-based narratives at the same time, disenfranchises non-western alternative
thoughts and ideas. Consequently, the West becomes the source of ideas and theories,
while the non-West is reduced to being their empirical testing grounds (Mignolo,
2002). Within International Relations then, two aspects of the global knowledge pro-
duction process sustain the colonial-driven division of intellectual labour: the stan-
dardization of Western metrics of intellectual productivity and the normalization of
English as a lingua franca for the dissemination of academic knowledge.
The corporatization of international knowledge production processes has neces-
sitated the capitalistic need to determine what qualifies as knowledge and what does
not. This need has manifested itself in the development of various criteria and met-
rics which seek to determine the ‘intellectual currency’ of knowledge. Consequently,
articles published in impact factor journals and journals featuring in the SCI
(Scientific Citation Index) and the SSCI (Social Science Citation Index) are deemed
to have more intellectual currency than articles published elsewhere (Beigel, 2014;
Shin, 2007). Since Western-based research journals have, through their resources
and intellectual power, positioned themselves centrally for the communication of
research trans-nationally, the quality of intellectual work has been replaced by the
quality of journal it is published in. The research journals in International Relations
have then emerged as arbitrators of knowledge and as arbitrators and follow gate-
keeping practices through which they imbue ‘intellectual authority’ over what
passes as knowledge and what does not and subsequently who is authorized to gen-
erate knowledge and who is not. These gatekeeping practices include the peer-
review process which scrutinizes the theoretical and methodological foundations of
research articles and the ability to write in English which conforms to Western sty-
listic and grammatical standards. Consequently, judging on these criteria, much of
the literature from the non-West vying for a ‘prestigious’ spot is marginalized. The
rule is then simple: If an intellectual labour is to be recognized, it has to pass Western
standards.
For non-West scholars perhaps, the most detrimental quality of the international
knowledge production processes is the imposition of English as a lingua Franca for
research. While for the uncritical non-Western scholar of International Relations,
the impediment is in terms of achieving a linguistic standard which parallels those
of the native English-speaking one’s; however the universalization of English as a
research language in Social Sciences exhibits colonial potential. As Phillipson
(2009, 38) argues: ‘The acceptance of the status of English, and its assumed neutral-
ity implies uncritical adherence to the dominant world disorder, unless policies to
counteract neolinguistic imperialism and to resist capital dispossession are in force’.
The problem in the (post)colonial world is then twofold: first, the normalization of
English as the research language imposes pressures on the non-Western scholars to
perform on standards put in place for the native speakers of the English world.
Consequently, the non-Western scholars begin their intellectual journey from a
position of disadvantage which has cultural politics at its roots (Pennycook, 1994).
Second, considering that local historical knowledges were often communicated
in local languages, to bring these knowledges forward in the global knowledge
economy would require a proficiency of English for which the non-Western schol-
ars are often not equipped. In this way not only are non-western scholars marginal-
ized by the international knowledge producers, but local knowledges also stand
disenfranchised and seldom feature prominently in mainstream International
Relations discourses. Consequently, one of the only options left with the non-
Western scholars is to pursue research which is read and understood and originates
from Western knowledge centres.
It is no wonder then that Western academics dominate the global intellectual
landscape. For instance, Tickner and Weaver (2009) using a dataset of journal arti-
cles in the top International Relations journals between 1970 and 2005 demon-
strated that more than 80% of articles were published by scholars positioned in the
West. This assertion holds true even in the case of Pakistan. According to my earlier
research, 134 journal articles on Pakistan appeared in the top 100 International
Relations journals between 2006 and 2016, out of which only 9 journal articles were
published by scholars based in Pakistan (Waheed, 2019).
At the same time, the dominant mainstream literature in International Relations
continues to stay ontologically positivist using ethnocentric frames derived from
western culture and philosophy (Maliniak et al., 2011). The dominance of western-
centred thinking which permeates transnational intellectual landscapes then regu-
larizes a specific mode of thinking and a specific set of ideas, which are normatively
held supreme in (post)colonial societies, and the competition then is not to
190 A. W. Waheed
counteractively produce alternative indigenous knowledge but to produce empirical

research using euro-centric ideas. This is why the euro-centric frames of Realism
and Liberalism in their various manifestations continue to dominate the discourse
on International Relations in Pakistan. As Alatas (2000, 25–27) points out the con-
tinuity in coloniality:
If you wanted to get a good degree you should go to European or American universities. If
you wanted a higher degree, you should go there. If you wanted to learn anything, you
should read their books. This idea of dependence, through tutelage, for this region intel-
lectually, had been taken for granted. It was assumed that people here know less about
practically all subjects than people in the West. Once again a parallel exists…There is the
attitude that good books are only written in the West. Those who study economic never
bother to find out the thoughts of Asian economic thinkers. Those who study political sci-
ence never bother to find out what Asian political thinkers contributed…This initial outlook
regards Asian intellectual endeavor as irrelevant and outmoded.
The marginalization of non-Western discourses and scholars provides the intellec-

tual space to Western knowledge producers to fill the vacuum of discourse and write
about the non-West. However, the West’s discourse on the non-West is often based
on an overreliance on secondary sources of data and limited number of methodolo-
gies and theories (Jackson et al., 2009; Smyth, 2009). In this process of writing on
International Relations and specifically the non-Western world, much of the context
and the lived histories of non-Western areas are sacrificed at the altar of Western
thought. The decontextualised and dehistoricised literature on the (post)colonial
areas imbued with western intellectual authority and discursive superiority is
imbibed by the uncritical minds in the (post)colonial areas and assimilated as domi-
nant truths. Consequently, the colonial nature of the international knowledge pro-
duction processes not only marginalizes and disenfranchises the contexts and lived
histories of (post)colonial societies, but also, by circulating dominant and myopic
Western narratives, establishes contextual and historical versions of ‘truth’ about
the (post)colonial societies which are grounded in western subjectivities.
The Local Colonial Structure of Knowledge Production
Central to the issue of coloniality, in the (post)colonial world, is the idea of the ‘cap-
tive mind’. Alatas (2000, 37) defines a captive mind as ‘the mind that is imitative
and uncreative and whose thinking is based on western categories and modes of
thought’. The field of International Relations in Pakistan perfectly encapsulates the
idea of the captive mind. It is imitative and uncreative in the sense that even those
issues, such as terrorism, which have remained a focal concern of International
Relations, the contributions of Pakistani International Relations scholars have
remained quite unoriginal. For instance, while elaborating on the state of local
scholarship on terrorism, Feyyaz (2016, 13) observes that by and large, ‘the material
[on terrorism] can be described as geopolitical, journalistic, and security-centric,
with terrorism tagged as one of several variables. It is marked by limited historical
analysis, analytic linearity, lack of methodological rigor and statistical analysis, and
the failure to engage in field research.’ At the same time the International Relations
fraternity in Pakistan has yet to break out from their uncritical consumption of west-
ern categories and modes of thought. Many scholars studying the field of International
Relations in Pakistan have observed the dominance of the theory of Realism
(Behera, 2008, 2009; Inayatullah, 1998; Waheed, 2017). Behera (2008), for instance,
argues that the International Relations in Pakistan has thoroughly internalized the
philosophy of political realism along with its ontologically positivist premise. Since
International Relations scholars in Pakistan continue to uncritically consume and
reproduce western thoughts and ideas, these ideas are consequently transferred
through pedagogical processes.
What ensues then is a vicious cycle, where captive minds produce more captive
minds in order to serve other captive minds. International Relations in Pakistan is an
‘elite’ field, primarily because many of its graduates go on to hold positions in gov-
ernmental and non-governmental think-tanks. The objective of International
Relations in Pakistan then is to produce realist narratives which favour state prefer-
ences and in doing so justify government policies rather than presenting well-
researched alternative options (Behera, 2009). The proficiency in methodological
skills and ideational variety is consequently replaced by the proficiency in English
language. The International Relations academe in Pakistan then creates a class of
English-speaking intellectuals who derive their knowledge episteme from Western
ideas. Even though the imbuement of Western ideas in Pakistani International
Relations has remained historically consistent, it is only recently that coloniality has
been institutionalized. The Higher Education Commission of Pakistan quite recently
released its ‘model’ syllabus for undergraduate and postgraduate studies in
International Relations. There are two aspects of the syllabus which are highly prob-
lematic. Firstly, most of the reading resources cited in the syllabus belong to Western
authors, and secondly, within the syllabus there is no discussion on the various
aspects of Colonialism and Imperialism.
Ironically, in the module International Relations: 1648–1945, the approximate
time period in which European powers ravaged much of the non-West through colo-
nialism, the Higher Education Commission of Pakistan (2017) suggests course
learning outcomes to: ‘(1) Understand the rise and fall of the great powers and their
influences on the development of International system; (2) Analyze, investigate and
evaluate the contemporary problems with help of historical developments in Europe
from 1648 to 1945; (3) Demonstrate the ability and capability to critically examine
the role of religious, ideological and political movements in shaping the foreign
policies of great powers.’ This shift away from understanding local contexts and
familiarizing students with colonial history to focusing on and valorising Western
history has seismic effects in Pakistani International Relations. Firstly, this focus on
the West is due to a ‘shared sense of . . . intellectual inferiority against the West’
(S. F. Alatas, 2003, 604). In effect then, this inferiority manifests itself through
pedagogical instruments and creates a generation of International Relations schol-
ars who uncritically assimilate this inferiority. Secondly, by ignoring colonialism
and imperialism as a defining feature of non-Western International Relations, the
192 A. W. Waheed
dominant educational structures in Pakistan inculcate among students an under-

standing of International Relations which is dehistoricised and decontextualized.
Thus, students study International Relations contemporaneously without even
knowing about their colonial past, consequently imbuing and projecting a ‘reality’
that colonialism was a mere territorial matter of the past with no value in our con-
temporary world. Thirdly, because they have no information about how colonialism
and imperialism operated through the international system, they also remain quite
unaware about how the event of colonialism continues to regulate their intellectual
lives. The imposition of cultural inferiority and western superiority permeates not
only through pedagogical practices but also through research ones.
The Higher Education Commission of Pakistan incentivises academic promo-
tions through publications in research journals. For the purpose of ascertaining their
‘quality’, the research journals are divided into three categories of W, X, and Y
where Y category journals represent the lowest quality and W category journals
demonstrate ‘international’ standards (Higher Education Commission of Pakistan,
2017). There are no Pakistani journals in the field of International Relations in the
W category and only one Pakistani journal in the X category. The Higher Education
Commission adopted a Tenure Track approach to incentivise ‘good’ research, in
2008. According to the Higher Education Commission then, academics on the
Tenure Track route need to publish in W or X category journals in order to fulfil
requirements for their promotion. These promotion criteria have time limits too. For
instance, for an assistant professor to be promoted to the rank of associate professor,
the academic has to publish 10 articles in 6 years(Higher Education Commission of
Pakistan, 2017). For tenure track academics then, the emphasis is on quantity rather
than ‘quality’ (Zaman, 2018), and even if they follow ‘quality’, it is a quality which
conforms to Western ideas and standards. This considerably reduces space for alter-
native and indigenous thinking and reinforces western superiority as the intellectual
pursuit is restricted to achieving western standards.
Quite recently, the Higher Education Commission has de-incentivised the publi-
cations of books and book chapters (Higher Education Commission of Pakistan,
2017). The message to academics is quite clear: If we cannot measure knowledge by
Western metrics, it cannot be categorised as knowledge. At the same time, the west-
ern metrics on book publishing include only ‘top’ book publishers positioned in the
western knowledge hubs. Consequently, the Higher Education Commission of
Pakistan believes that knowledge is only that which is endorsed by ‘Western’ stan-
dards. The tenure track is aimed at producing high quality ‘knowledge”, but in this
production of knowledge, questions such as ‘Who is the knowledge produced for’
or ‘Who is its recipient’ (Capan, 2016, 5) are often never asked. The objective of
producing knowledge in International Relations then is to enable scholars to use
their skillset in servitude to the imperial academic marketplace. This becomes all
the more apparent, since the Higher Education Commission has not incentivised
any International Relations journal in local languages. Rather it has created a class
of intellectuals who only speak to Western ‘power’ using a western language by
reproducing western ideas. This class of ‘captive minds’ draws its power from its
association to the imperial structure of knowledge production and seeks to preserve
that power by strengthening the status quo. Alatas (2000, 27) perfectly encapsulates
the intellectual decadence of the (post)colonial world and by extension Pakistan.
Instead of selecting different themes ourselves, that is, using our knowledge of historiogra-
phy to select new topics that are relevant to the region, we persist in imitating the themes
and methods of European scholars…So our colonized scholar has become an out member
of the breed…He has become the loyal slave like the slaves of the Roman Empire. A slave
of the Roman Empire believed in the glory of Rome; He was happy in his slavery; he found
it a natural state of affairs. Similarly, our slave scholars are quite happy.
The global neoliberal development, which Cairo and Cabal (2021: 14) term ‘capi-
talism on steroids’, permeated the tertiary education culture in Pakistan during the
2000s. It corporatised and commercialised knowledge, and consequently, ‘markets
became the major agents of coloniality’ (Ndlovu-Gatsheni, 2020: 13). As a Pakistani
scholar of International Relations, being part of a knowledge system that institution-
alises Western superiority and naturalizes Western epistemic hegemony, my deci-
sion to read for my postgraduate degrees in the United Kingdom was because it was
more marketable and credible in the national knowledge economy. My success was
premised on how integral I became to the market economy. As Connell (2018:
22) argues
To function successfully as a scientist, one must read the leading journals published in the
metropole, learn the research techniques taught there, and gain recognition there. Career
paths include advanced training in the metropole, attending conferences in the metropole,
and, for the more successful, getting jobs in the metropole. The theoretical hegemony of the
North is simply the normal functioning of this economy of knowledge.
What Connell implied holds true since it encompasses all the three dimensions of a
scholar working in the post(colonial) society: pedagogy, research, and professional
development. I hence began my International Relations academic journey by teach-
ing students about theories given by western scholars without being self-critical or
self-aware of alternative forms of knowledge. Having returned I had completely
submerged myself in the discourses produced in the West. The metric for my
achievements became publishing in high impact factor journals located in the West,
attending conference there, and getting recognition there. However, three issues
emerged as I besought recognition in the imperial structure.
Firstly, I could not think beyond western theories, and since I was borrowing
theoretical ideas from the West, my work was reduced to empirical validations to
those ideas. My focus remained on the main tenets of the political theory of Realism
broadly, without understanding how race and racism, imperialism, and neocolonial-
ism continued to dictate my contemporary reality. In doing so I became a cog in the
capitalist machinery, a continuum of colonialism, which assigns unequal division of
intellectual labour by sourcing ideas from the West while extracting date from the
non-West. Something which Paul Zeleza noticed for Africa, but holds true in most
(post) colonial contexts, when he argued that ‘If unchecked, the current trends will
reinforce the international intellectual division of labor, whereby [postcolonial[ uni-
versities and social scientists will continue to import appropriate package of “uni-
versal” theory and, at, best, export empirical data; to be consumers of advance
194 A. W. Waheed
research conducted in the universities in the North’ (Jeater, 2018: 23). Secondly,
since the neoliberal market economy imposes financial constraints on universities in
the non-West, in terms of paucity of resources in purchasing books, journals, and
funding research activity, this unequal distribution of resources maintained my posi-
tion as a secondary scholar in International Relations as opposed to those located in
the West. Thirdly, and most importantly, as a consequence, the transfer of
International Relations knowledge to my students was predominantly empirical and
geared to make them effective cogs within the imperial structure of higher educa-
tion. As Thiong’o argues ‘the colonial literature takes the native further and further
away from themselves to other selves and from their world to other worlds’ (Zeiny,
2019: 91) and as a mentally colonised International Relations scholar, I was always
trying to catch up with the western scholar, in a system which was actually designed
for the ‘creation of inferiority’ (Fanon, 1967: 93).
Another issue was that the academic market, which has now become the agent of
coloniality, imposed academic restrictions through the imposition of a market men-
tality which standardises neoliberal metrics of measure for academic achievements.
Publishing in impact factor and indexed journals became the holy grail. Since most
of these journals are based in the West and the English-speaking world, with peer-
review processes in the West, this reduced any chance of contributing original indig-
enous thought. For instance, while trying to publish a paper, I had deliberated on the
feudal class in Pakistan, yet my paper was rejected solely because the reviewer
argued that there was no feudal class in Pakistan. Pakistanis know that to be not true.
Consequently, the standard of my achievement was reduced to using western ideas
which were publishable. Many scholars and students of International Relations have
found it difficult to convince western peer reviewers about our local cultural and
societal specificities. At the same time the national publishing circuit in Pakistan is
myopically restricted to publishing research and analytical articles which are
grounded in mainstream western theories such as Realism, Liberalism, etc. This
considerably marginalizes contributions from those who wish to expand the bound-
aries of International Relations in the national academe. Many of my students whom
I had motivated to see beyond western mainstream International Relations and
explore themes of Eurocentrism, Decolonization, Hegemony, etc. had no outlet
from where to voice their opinions and express their anti-oppressive sentiments. At
this juncture, I established a knowledge-sharing platform named ROADS Initiative
(acronym for Research On Advancement and Development of Social Sciences) to
enable scholars and peers, across the academic spectrum, to showcase their anti-
oppressive opinions and research. The platform publishes informed work of any
style and inclination and has no word count limitations.
However, the most issue which International Relations scholars in Pakistan face,
and that includes me, is the established use of English Language as an expression of
academic research. Many International Relations scholars face language impedi-
ments since being non-native English speakers, no matter how hard we try, we can-
not raise our academic English expertise to the levels of those of the native-English
speaking academics. Many journal articles of non-Western scholars are often
rejected on the basis of poor English language skills and inadequate style and
structure. Academic outlets in the West have consequently begun offering profes-
sional copyediting services for non-native English speakers, charging a fee which
when calculated in local currencies is a substantial sum. What follows is this: We
import ideas from the West, export data to the West, and transfer our financial
resources to the West. If this is not colonialism, I do not know what is.
Conclusion
The Western knowledge production processes are more disposed towards works
authored by western scholars, enabling the western authors garner more prestige
and consequently wider circulation. This means that most writings on histories of
the previous colonies emanating from western corridors are subjective and divorced
from indigenous lived experiences of the oppressed. At the same time, since the
‘captive minds’ possessing intellectual power through their emulation of western
knowledge episteme are busy in mimicking western knowledge and consolidating
an intellectual status quo, their works also continue to marginalize and ignore his-
torical memories in their intellectual discourses. In their imitation of their Western
superiors, these ‘captive minds’ uncritically assimilate Western knowledge. They
disenfranchise local knowledges that may seek to alternatively capture different
world views. That may be one reason why, at least in Pakistan, the study of
International Relations is largely myopically restricted to two dominate western
frames and their subsets: Realism and Liberalism. While, from Latin America to
India, there have been growing intellectual trends which seek to decentre the stran-
glehold of Realism and Liberalism by bringing other frames of ideas such as post-
colonialism, decolonialism, and poststructuralism into mainstream debates,
Pakistani International Relations community continues to stay completely silent
when it comes to anti-oppressive and anti-hegemonic ideas. At the same time, this
structure, based on a fetishized want for western acknowledgment, is formally held
in place by the Higher Education Commission. Much of the promotion criteria of
professors and scholars, whether PhD students or university professors, is based on
ideals upheld in western universities, without taking into consideration local cul-
ture, and the systematic disadvantage of Pakistani scholars in the Social Sciences,
which the Higher Education seeks to conveniently ignore. The rat race which the
HEC supervises then witnesses scholars grappling for any opportunity to publish.
Not only do ethics take a back seat in the struggle for survival of the scholar, the
quality of work suffers too. At the same time, since scholars are quite cognizant that
their work must conform to mainstream western-centric discourses, any incentive to
explore alternative, indigenous, and local ideas which may contribute in substan-
tially advancing knowledge in the region is nullified. Questions such as who is this
knowledge produced for? Who is its recipient? What direction should an education
system take if it wishes to break away from neo-colonialism? What should be the
philosophy guiding it? How do we see the thinking of our next-generation evolve?
(Capan, 2016) are never asked and hence never answered.
196 A. W. Waheed
The effect of such complacence resonates both in research and classroom. The
unconscious ‘captive mind’ not only reproduces western-centred knowledge in
research articles, but because that knowledge encompasses the entirety of their
knowledge, it becomes the foundation of the pedagogical environment through
which International Relations is relayed in the classroom. Thus, generations after
generations imbue colonial-based Eurocentric knowledge without critically ques-
tioning their episteme. In doing so, International Relations becomes a decontextual-
ised and dehistoricised discipline which seeks to enmesh emerging generations into
a warped understanding of International Relations which take Eurocentricity as the
superior vantage point of analyses. In order to break the stranglehold of western-
centric thought, International Relations needs to be decolonized. More alternative
frames need to be worked on and incentivised; classroom activity should involve a
process of dialogue where students are made critically aware of the normalized and
naturalised discourses. Language barriers should be removed and should be fol-
lowed by a mass translation and transliteration campaign to make ideas available to
all in their own local languages so that everybody gets the right to ‘know’. It is only
through decolonizing the Social Sciences generally and International Relations spe-
cifically can we truly emancipate and free our minds to constructive thinking and
knowledge which in turn will benefit the society.
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Dr. Ahmed Waqas Waheed is an assistant professor of Political Science at the Department of
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‘Pakistan’ through Knowledge Production in International Relations and Area Studies.
Beyond Westphalia and Aberystwyth:
Decolonial Reflections on the Origins
of International Relations Discipline
Syed Wajeeh Ul Hassan and Fatima Waqi Sajjad
Abbreviations
AAPSS American Academy of Political and Social Science

CMP Colonial Matrix of Power
IPE International Political Economy
IR International Relations
NAACP National Association for the Advancement of Coloured People
PCA Permanent Court of Arbitration
Introduction
International Relations (IR) is a multidisciplinary discipline that examines interac-

tions between states and other international system actors. The discipline was ini-
tially concerned with the analysis of war and interstate conflict. However, it has
expanded to include a broader spectrum of issues about interactions between states,
intergovernmental organizations, and non-state or transnational organizations. The
discipline today also analyses a variety of global issues, including governance, eco-
nomic development, human rights, environmental sustainability, pandemics, terror-
ism, and other complex challenges that define the contemporary global landscape
(Jackson & Sørensen, 2013; Goldstein & Pevehouse, 2014). The discipline’s self-
imagined history traces its ancestry to the 1648 Peace Treaty of Westphalia, which
is regarded as the origin of the modern nation-state and the international system, and
then to 1919 with the establishment of the Woodrow Wilson Chair of International
S. W. Ul Hassan · F. W. Sajjad (*)

School of Social Sciences and Humanities, University of Management and Technology,
Lahore, Pakistan
e-mail: S2020372003@umt.edu.pk; fatima.sajjad@umt.edu.pk
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-41965-2_11
200 S. W. Ul Hassan and F. W. Sajjad
Politics at Aberystwyth University, Wales, in the aftermath of World War I (Baylis

et al., 2020; Sørensen et al., 2022). IR scholars employ a variety of theoretical
approaches and methodological tools to identify patterns and trends in state behav-
iour to investigate the causes and consequences of various types of interactions and
to predict the behaviour of other international actors. Up until the 1980s, traditional
theoretical approaches such as realism, liberalism, and Marxism or their combina-
tion were used to study IR; however, in the late 1980s, the ‘Critical Turn’ in IR
ushered a diverse, retrospective and reflectivist approach to the study of the disci-
pline (Leysens, 2008). As per Blanco and Delgado, the critical turn diversified the
discipline’s epistemological and ontological concerns (Blanco & Delgado, 2019),
causing a renewed interest in the discipline’s widely accepted narrative about its
history. Many scholars started challenging IR Eurocentric episteme and discipline’s
often-repeated description of its origin (Davis et al., 2020; Stöckmann, 2022;
Carvalho et al., 2011; Hobson, 2012).1
This chapter will present my recently acquired decolonial perspective on the
origins of the IR discipline. The scholarly research reflects views from a scholar
from the global South trying to understand a discipline that claims to be interna-
tional. I would focus on the commonly accepted IR’s founding narrative, which
claims that the discipline was founded in 1919 in Aberystwyth in reaction to the
catastrophic events of World War I. Conversely, I contend that the origins of IR are
inextricably linked with European colonial and imperial power prevalent since
1492. I would initially set the context by reflecting on the IR discipline and decolo-
nial thinking by highlighting the epistemological and ontological assumptions that
underpin the discipline by exploring the historical context of Eurocentric episteme.
After setting the context, I shall examine the discipline’s widely accepted origin
narrative to arrive at the central premise that the IR’s origin does not lie in achieving
idyllic peace but in preserving Western hegemony. I would discuss how the main-
stream narrative about the beginnings of IR sustains an imperial history while rein-
forcing Eurocentric epistemologies in the field. I conclude that mainstream IR is an
abstraction of selective narratives interwoven with Western political thinking,
thereby validating the thesis that the IR discipline is rooted in imperialism and rep-
resents the raison d’être of the West to preserve its pre-eminence in global politics.
My initial exposure to the Eurocentric episteme was in a class on political phi-
losophers during a Political Science course I took in Australia in 2014. As the endur-
ing influence of Western thinkers such as Machiavelli, Hobbes, and Locke was
being explored, whose concepts have been widely used in the analysis of the state,
power, and international relations to construct theoretical frameworks, we noticed a
notable absence of Non-Western philosophers and their ideas in political philoso-
phy (Valbjørn, 2008), which led to a discussion. Owing to my Asian heritage, I felt
1
The revisionist turn was inspired by a feeling that the ‘realists’ had constructed a disciplinary
identity that suited their approach, especially in the context of Cold War power politics, and that
they had wrongly portrayed interwar scholars as naïve believers in the League of Nations
(Stöckmann, 2022).
Beyond Westphalia and Aberystwyth: Decolonial Reflections on the Origins… 201
a sense of expectation from my classmates to contribute insights regarding this

noticeable absence from the canon of political thinkers. The experience acted as a
catalyst to identify the knowledge gap inside me and kindled a desire to engage in
critical reflection to find reasons for absence of non-western philosophers and ideas
in canons of political science. The ensuing introspective process was transforma-
tive, guiding me towards a decolonial perspective.
I was introduced to decolonial thinking during my doctoral coursework in 2021,
which led me to comprehend the epistemic, structural, and normative effects of
colonial and imperial legacies. Quijano identified that these legacies are shaped by
the Colonial Matrix of Power (CMP) or coloniality (Quijano & Ennis, 2000).
Referring to the complex and enduring cross-domain social, political, economic,
and cultural legacies of the European colonial empires, CMP revealed the power-
knowledge nexus that leads to epistemic violence.2 It challenged my earlier knowl-
edge, leaving me irritated and resulted in protracted discussions with the professor.
My irritation sprang from realising gaps in my knowledge that remained masked for
over 50 years. The proverbial cliché about how being ignorant mimics being in a
deep slumber and having someone attempt to wake you up would make you more
irritated rings true here. Familiarisation with decolonial thinking offered me a
unique perspective to comprehend the coloniality of knowledge that denotes endur-
ing Western hegemony over intellectual thought and knowledge production. My
newly gained perspective connected the idiomatic expression ‘the pen is mightier
than the sword’ to the idea of epistemic violence as I became accustomed to a reali-
sation that knowledge and ideas, owing to their enduring influence, are more potent
than physical force. The Eurocentric knowledge in this wake justified European
colonialism, and its derivative coloniality continues today.
IR Discipline: Setting the Context
My interest in IR stemmed from a desire to understand the complex interplay of

historical, political, social, and economic factors that shape the international system.
I anticipated that the discipline’s multidisciplinary nature would facilitate me in
developing a nuanced understanding of global politics.3 However, the growing deco-
lonial awareness helped me to discern the hidden coloniality embedded within
the academic disciplines, owing to their Eurocentric beginnings. However, before
2
The concept points towards the knowledge production system as a weapon of oppression and
domination, marginalising, excluding, or erasing non-Western viewpoints and information.
3
According to Jackson and others, the IR is interdisciplinary and draws on theories and methods
from other disciplines, such as political science, economics, history, sociology, anthropology, phi-
losophy, psychology, international law, and others (Jackson & Sørensen, 2013).
Fig. 1 IR discipline’s illustrated framework by the Authors
entering this argument, I would like to establish the context by exploring the univer-
sally understood narrative of the IR discipline. IR discipline’s illustrated framework
is shown in Fig. 1.
Hoffmann informs that the Treaties of Westphalia in 1648, marking the com-
mencement of the international system, and 1919, marking the formal establishment
of the discipline, are the vital milestone of the discipline (Hoffmann, 1995). These
events are widely acknowledged as the discipline’s defining boundary and founda-
tional pillars, shaping international relations as a distinct field of study. The state is
the primary actor endeavouring to preserve its sovereignty and security while
engaging with other actors in the international system. Since the anarchic nature of
the international system lacks a centralised authority, states must operate within a
self-help environment and develop their capabilities to safeguard their interests. As
a result, the actions and interactions of nation-states play a critical role in shaping
the international system. This framework emphasises comprehending states’ behav-
iour and decision-making processes, making the state a primary unit of analysis
within the discipline.
IR theoretical traditions are used to comprehend the complexities of interna-
tional relations. Scholars agree that IR theoretical traditions are analytical tools for
thinking clearly. They make complicated issues easier to learn and help to decide
which historical or current facts are most important when understanding the world.
Still, scholars caution that theories should not be taken as absolute truths or accepted
without question. This is because theories are suppositions or speculations about
how things are. They help make sense of what motivates states and other actors to
behave the way they do and predict or prescribe what actions the state should take
in response to different circumstances. Considering the different assumptions that
underpin each tradition, they provide a wide range of explanations for a particular
action (Knutsen, 1992; Jackson & Sørensen, 2013).
Consequently, various theories provide different interpretations of international
situations. Historically realism, liberalism, and Marxism have remained prominent
IR traditions (Dunne et al., 2013a). Sørensen et al. outline four established theoreti-
cal traditions of the discipline: realism, liberalism, international society, and inter-
national political economy (IPE) (Sørensen et al., 2022). Relatively new theoretical
approaches, such as Social Constructivism and the post-positivist approaches, offer
a different perspective than the traditional one. IR’s historical development is nar-
rated through the great debates in IR. These are central to the IR discipline and
provide a framework for understanding its development since its inception in 1919.
Kurki, citing Wæver, claims that although there is no agreement on the precise num-
ber of great debates, four are widely acknowledged to have had a significant impact
in shaping the discipline (Kurki & Wight, 2013). These debates are narrated in a
series of distinct phases: the idealism vs realism debate of the 1940s, the behaviour-
ism vs traditionalism debate of the 1960s, and the inter-paradigm debate of the
mid-1970s between realism, liberalism, and Marxism. The most recent debate
between rationalism and reflectivism emerged in the 1980s; critiques established
traditions from reflectivists’ viewpoints (Sørensen et al., 2022). Reflectivist
approaches emphasise understanding the role of ideas, norms, culture, and identity
in influencing state behaviour.
Scholars have challenged the discipline’s ontological, epistemological, and
methodological assumptions, prompting a re-examination of the discipline’s texts.
They raise questions about what is being studied, who is being studied, what defines
the world, and how one thinks and understands the discipline and its topics.
E.H. Carr,4 critiquing the discipline, argued that IR in the ‘English-speaking coun-
tries’ is only a study about how ‘to run the world from positions of strength’ and a
rationalisation for the exercise of power by the dominant nations over the weak.
Further arguing that there was no science of international relations, Carr concluded
IR was an ideology of control, masking as a proper academic discipline (Carr,
1946). The multidisciplinary nature of the discipline caused it to be termed as a
‘rag-bag’ (Ibid.), a fragmented discipline (Buzan & Lawson, 2015; Dunne et al.,
2013b) and a mongrel American Social Science (Vitalis, 2015; Davis et al., 2020).
According to Wilkinson, the main IR theoretical approaches have yet to be proven
in any scientific sense. Instead, they constitute ways of perceiving international rela-
tions or models that appeal to their adherents because that is how they prefer to view
4
Edward Hallett Carr was a British historian, diplomat, journalist and international relations theo-
rist, and an opponent of empiricism within historiography. He is dubbed one of the most original
thinkers about IR of the twentieth century.
the world (Sørensen et al., 2022). Similarly, Dunne, Kurki, and Smith inform that IR
theories provide different explanations for international happenings and testify to
various assumptions and interpretations (Dunne et al., 2013a). The discipline’s
identity by the great debates is also contentious, remaining unsettled and contested.
Schmidt raises concerns about the actual happening of these debates and argues that
"one might be better off simply to reject discussing how the field has developed"
(Schmidt, 2002). Wæver, highlighting the contentious nature of these debates’, con-
cludes that they remain fundamental to understanding the IR discipline (Wæver,
1998). Ashworth questions the veracity of the Realist-Idealist debate (Ashworth,
2002). While the above critiques contested specific segments of the discipline by
arguing that it is not as international as its name suggests, Ole Wæver highlighted
the US and European scholars’ dominant role in defining IR parameters (Wæver,
1998). Eurocentric origin is the common thread that bounds IR theories, traditional
concepts, and frameworks; it keeps the analysis and understanding of global issues
limited to Western perspectives. According to Jackson and Sørensen, acknowledg-
ing Western primacy is essential for comprehending contemporary IR (Jackson &
Sørensen, 2013).
Decolonial Thinking and the IR
Decolonial thinking is a way of understanding the world that seeks to challenge and
transform the legacies of colonialism and imperialism. It examines how colonialism
has shaped and continues to influence the world, including social structures, power
dynamics, and cultural norms. Decolonial thinking often centres on the perspectives
and experiences of colonised and formerly colonised peoples. It encompasses vari-
ous fields, including philosophy, social sciences, and cultural studies, and offers a
critical framework for analysing power, knowledge, and representation in global
politics (Sabaratnam, 2020). Before moving ahead on decolonial thinking, sharing
a few thoughts on the academic disciplines invented in Europe during the
Enlightenment is imperative. Decolonial thinkers such as Grosfoguel and Mignolo
have informed that modern academic disciplines emerged because of the
Enlightenment, thereby secularising Western universities in the late eighteenth cen-
tury and promoting the Kantian idea that rationality was only embodied in the White
man north of the Pyrenees mountains, labelling all others as irrational (Grosfoguel,
2013; Mignolo, 2011). Grosfoguel adds that the canon of thought in all the Social
Sciences and Humanities disciplines is based on the knowledge produced by the
men from five countries in Western Europe (Grosfoguel, 2013) considering it above
all knowledge.5 An academic discipline is not restricted to transferring knowledge
but also entails a deeper awareness of the cultural and social environment in which
that knowledge was produced. Decolonial thinking taught me that knowledge
5
These five countries are Italy, France, England, Germany, and the US.
creation is not a neutral activity, as Mignolo suggests (Mignolo, 2009); instead, it is

moulded by the values, beliefs, and interests of those who produce it. As a result, I
realised how critical it is to grasp the cultural and historical elements that drive
knowledge formation. The famous adage of Robert Cox, ‘Theory is always for
someone and for some purpose’ (Cox, 1981), emphasises the partiality of knowl-
edge and the necessity of relating knowledge to the interests and the goals of the
knowledge producer. In this context, education disciplines seem to be a CMP com-
ponent that assists in controlling and regulating human behaviour by enforcing
social conventions, norms, and expectations. Marietta claims that disciplinary train-
ing results in a system of ordered behaviour (Marietta Del Favero, 2018, #156235).
It can be thought of as getting people to act in a certain way or stick to a set of rules,
codes, or principles. Foucault’s idea of panopticon plugs in well here (Ashcroft
et al., 2013). In this context, Du Bois’s argument that education was so arranged that
the young learned not necessarily the truth, but that aspect and interpretation of the
fact which the rulers of the world wished them to know and follow (Jones, 2006),
appears relevant.
Decolonial thinking contends that dominant IR theories are not neutral but have
aided the West in securing dominance over the global South. To me, decolonial
thinking is a meta-theory,6 a theory about theories, and argues that all IR theories
follow Eurocentric episteme and serve imperial interests. It questions the imperial
and colonial assumptions that underpin academic disciplines and adds another layer
to the reflectivists’ and rationalists’ debate. Decolonial thinking highlights that IR’s
Eurocentric episteme eulogises it as universal and leads to distorted understandings
of global politics. It highlights the underlying colonial/imperial difference in
Western philosophical traditions that projects Europe as the pinnacle of human soci-
ety, thereby universalising the European epistemology. Decolonial thinking explains
that the IR discipline’s self-narrated history, traditional concepts, thoughts, theories,
and language of inquiry are permeated with imperial and colonial logic.7
Decolonial thinking links with liberation psychology as both complement each
other in challenging oppressive power structures. The first challenge is the univer-
sality of the Eurocentric epistemology, while the latter seeks to empower margin-
alised people by studying the psychological repercussions of oppression. Together
in conjunction, they form part of the intellectual repository and provide a frame-
work for comprehending and opposing colonialism (Maldonado-Torres, 2011;
Barreto, 2018). According to Mignolo, Liberation and Decolonisation point to proj-
ects of detaching ourselves from the colonial power matrix at a conceptual and
epistemological level (Mignolo, 2010). In tandem, decolonial thinking and
6
Kurki explains that meta-theory does not focus on specific events, phenomena, or empirical prac-
tices in the real world. Instead, it examines the underlying assumptions of all theories and consid-
ers their implications for theorising itself (Dunne et al., 2013a).
7
Colonial and imperial logic refers to the political, economic, and social systems established by
European colonial powers during European expansion and imperialism from the fifteenth to the
twentieth century. This logic was based on the belief that European nations were superior to other
cultures and races and therefore had the right to dominate and exploit them for their benefit.
liberation psychology can liberate the mind because denaturalisation, problematis-

ing, and critical conscientisation open the possibility of taking on a different per-
spective (Rivera, 2020).8
My engagement with decolonial thinking enabled me to understand Mignolo’s
‘Western code’ (Mignolo, 2011).9 I was able to discern the embedded Western code
within the IR discipline and recognise how Western-centric perspectives and biases
are often privileged and normalised in IR. At the same time, alternative views and
voices are marginalised or ignored. The situation resembles George Orwell’s dysto-
pian world, where those in power control history and language to maintain power
over the population.10 It resembles coloniality, as both highlight how those in power
control the narrative for shaping a universal perception of reality. The Eurocentric
knowledge perpetuated by the European colonial empires controlled non-Western
cultures, their description of the history, and constructed knowledge that suited their
interests. Access to the coloniality of knowledge and liberation psychology allowed
me to comprehend denaturalisation. By developing my conscientisation skills, I
tried to create a holistic understanding of international relations. As a result, I started
to problematise IR, which enabled me to discern the inherent colonial differences in
Western political thoughts. Consequently, I started a critical examination and ques-
tioned IR norms and established traditions I had previously assumed to be true. This
allowed me to develop a more sophisticated knowledge of the world and helped me
to recognise the socially constructed and historically contingent IR corpora. Once I
started to look beyond conventional IR rhetoric, I realised that IR dominant para-
digms and theoretical frameworks are neither neutral nor objective but were shaped
by European colonial and imperial history.
With the decolonial-enabled insight, it is not difficult to identify that IR self-
narrated account is cyclically regurgitated in discipline’s education; thus, sifting
reality from imaginary narratives becomes extremely difficult. Against this back-
drop, Edward Said’s argument that we can no longer ignore the empires and imperial
context in our studies (Jones, 2006) appears prophetic in the context of IR discipline.
8
Denaturalisation concept refers to the critical examination of notions, beliefs, and assumptions
that are usually taken for granted and do not question. Problematising is a process of developing
an understanding of the issues faced by oppressed populations directly from their perspective.
Conscientisation is the continuous process of mobilising consciousness through which one can
liberate from situations, facts, or relationships hitherto ignored or unnoticed.
9
According to Mignolo, Western code refers to the idea that there is only one way of knowing
things, which has existed since the Renaissance. This belief harms both people and the planet
because it only benefits a small group of people who think their way of knowing is the only correct
one. The code has been kept secret and passed down in six European languages: Italian, Spanish,
Portuguese, French, German, and English. Some languages are seen as more important for knowl-
edge than others. Latin was used for religious knowledge, while romance languages were respected
for other types of knowledge. Later, French became necessary for modern knowledge, and now
German and English are used to keep the code hidden (Ibid.).
10
George Orwell’s novel “1984” describes a totalitarian society where the ruling government con-
trols every aspect of people’s lives, including their thoughts and memories. In the IR context, the
Orwellian idea describes how power manipulates information and uses propaganda to control pub-
lic opinion and justify actions.
Exploring the historical context unveils the privilege enjoyed by Eurocentric episte-
mology through colonialism and imperialism that shaped hegemonic knowledge
systems. This allowed me to develop a more sophisticated knowledge of the world
and helped me to recognise the socially constructed and historically contingent IR
corpora. Once I started to look beyond conventional IR rhetoric, I realised that IR
dominant paradigms and theoretical frameworks are neither neutral nor objective but
were shaped by European colonial and imperial history. Thus, I assume that a view
through the decolonial lens has the potential to liberate the willing Southern scholars
who work within the confines of colonised knowledge systems from the hegemonic
IR discourses intertwined with colonial and imperial legacies.
rom Westphalia to Aberystwyth: Tracing the Origin

F
of IR Discipline
The Treaty of Westphalia in 1648 and the founding of the Woodrow Wilson Chair of
International Politics at the University of Wales, Aberystwyth, in 1919 are the
widely acknowledged two watershed moments in IR history. Branwen highlights
that these reference points are drawn exclusively from Europe’s internal history
(Ibid.). Other scholars have cast doubt on the founding narrative validity by ques-
tioning its claim. Terming them IR’s ontological big bangs, scholars like De
Carvalho, Leira, and Hobson have stressed the requirement to problematise these
canonical dates sacrilegiously (Carvalho et al., 2011). Arguing that neither sover-
eignty nor the anarchic international system originated from the Treaty of Westphalia,
the scholars such as Brian Schmidt, David Long, Robert Vitalis, and Torbjørn
Knutsen argue that IR became institutionalised much earlier than 1919, informing
that the discipline’s rationale was founded on a combination of a need to promote
international cooperation between powerful states and a racist ‘white supremacist’
ideas to study colonial administration (Long & Schmidt, 2005; Vitalis, 2015). These
revisionist arguments, coupled with the publishing of the arguably world’s first IR
book by Paul Reinsch in 1900, render the mentioned landmark events into little
more than myths. Buzan and Richard regard the widely accepted view of the origin
of the discipline as a romanticised and incorrect belief and argue that the origins of
IR can be better understood by recognising the role of the international system in
the discipline’s historiography (Buzan & Little, 2000).
I will begin by tracing the roots of international relations to the Treaty of
Westphalia in 1648, a fundamental tenet of the field. From there, I will delve into the
events that unfolded during the 271-year period between 1648 and 1919, which left
a profound and lasting impact on the discipline. Acharya and Buzan have high-
lighted the significance of the 271 years between the coining of neologisms ‘inter-
national’ and the ontological ‘big bangs’ of the international relations discipline
(Acharya & Buzan, 2019). Jeremy Bentham coined ‘international’ in 1789 to con-
textualise anything that transcends national boundaries or involves different
Fig. 2 Coining of international and the ontological big bangs of the discipline. (By the authors)
countries (Buzan & Lawson, 2015).11 Scholars have highlighted that neologism,
developed due to Bentham’s dissatisfaction with the term ‘the law of nations’, soon
gained traction into the political lexicon (Baylis et al., 2020; Lucian, 2014; Sutch &
Elias, 2007; Devetak et al., 2012). The highlighted time gap is illustrated in Fig. 2.
The understanding of the word nation in 1789 starkly contrasts today’s under-
standing. Relevant to mention that according to Césaire, the nation was a bourgeois
concept that was launched and exported throughout the world through European
empires (Césaire, 2001).12 Mignolo states that the ‘nation’ concept was primarily
defined in terms of ethnicity, particularly ‘whiteness’ (Mignolo & Escobar, 2013).
At that time, many parts of the world were under colonial rule. The international
system was dominated by European sovereign powers such as Great Britain, France,
Spain, Portugal, and the Dutch Republic.13 As such, neologism refers primarily to
interactions and relations between these European powers rather than interactions
between nation-states as we understand them today. Recognising the importance of
understanding what happened during the intervening periods and how it impacted
the IR discipline, it is essential to navigate and bridge the gap between the coining
of neologism and the defining events of the discipline (Acharya & Buzan, 2019).
Upon embarking on this quest, it swiftly became apparent that historical aspects
are more selective and less complete within the IR corpora. The denaturalising pro-
cess enabled me to identify the highlighted 271-year gap overlooked mainly in the
IR self-narrated history that excludes events that concentrates on a historical record
that substantiates its position while disregarding those that may conflict with it. This
results in an incomplete understanding of the international system and its history,
leading to flawed or inadequate analysis. Sankaran Krishna terms these lapses in IR
history as its historical amnesia, which distorts comprehension of global politics
and impairs the discipline’s capacity to effectively address contemporary global
challenges (Krishna, 2001). Acknowledging and confronting this phenomenon can
potentially problematise the issue to establish a more accurate and comprehensive
understanding of the international system’s dynamics. For instance, the Treaty of
Westphalia is still far from being decolonised and decentred; it enables Eurocentric
11
Jeremy Bentham was an English philosopher, jurist, and social reformer. Deemed the founder of
modern utilitarianism, the fundamental axiom of his philosophy was the principle that “it is the
greatest happiness of the greatest number that is the measure of right and wrong”.
12
Ernest Renan explains nation as a soul, a spiritual principle of possessing a rich legacy of shared
memories with a desire to live together, the will to perpetuate the value of the heritage that one has
received in an undivided form (Renan, 2018).
13
European powers had established trading posts and enclaves in India, Southeast Asia, China, and
Japan. Other empires, such as the Russian and Ottoman empires, existed then but were considered
second-rate due to imperial differences (Mignolo, 2021).
biases to persist in international relations. Ashworth highlights that the widely

accepted notion of a singular Treaty of Westphalia is flawed because it was a com-
pilation of different treaties, namely the Treaty of Münster and the Treaty of
Osnabrück (Lucian, 2014).14 This aspect is not well acknowledged in the widely
accepted IR narrative.
Ashworth further informs that the use of Westphalia as watershed event dates
from at least the nineteenth century (Ibid.). Kayaoglu posits a challenge to the
widely accepted Westphalian account, asserting that German historians conceived
the myth to criticise the French Revolution and, more specifically, the Napoleonic
imperial enterprise during German romanticism.15 International jurists subsequently
adopted the myth in the nineteenth century. For instance, according to Kayaoglu,
Henry Wheaton,16 in his seminal work ‘History of the Law of Nations in Europe and
America: From the Earliest Times to the Treaty of Washington’, published in 1842,
suggests that the ‘Peace of Westphalia, 1648, may be chosen as the epoch from
which to deduce the history of the modern science of international law’ (Kayaoglu,
2010). Osiander, challenging the conventional Westphalian narrative, states that the
assertions about the 1648 treaties are not substantiated by the actual agreements
signed. Instead, the so-called settlement often referenced in IR literature is a fic-
tional construct, lacking any verifiable basis (Osiander, 2001). Jackson and
Sшrensen highlight the revisionist argument about the lack of historical evidence to
support the widely acknowledged role of the Treaty of Westphalia in IR. Traditional
IR scholarship continues to repeat the Westphalian narrative. At the same time, the
revisionists, who are constructivists and critical theorists, deem Westphalia as a fic-
titious notion that does not correspond to historical reality (Jackson & Sørensen,
2013). Lawson argues that the Westphalian agreement was not an agreement that
covered the whole of Europe but rather a local affair (Baylis et al., 2020).
14
There is no single Westphalian document. The year 1648 saw the signing of three treaties within
the German territory of Westphalia, two in the City of Münster and one at Osnabrück to end the 30
Years’ War in Europe. The first treaty was signed on May 15, 1648, between the Holy Roman
Emperor Ferdinand III, representing the Habsburgs, and the Dutch Republic, supported by France
and Sweden. The treaty recognised the independence of the Dutch Republic from Spain and
granted it control over certain territories in the Spanish Netherlands. It also gave religious freedom
to Protestants in the Holy Roman Empire and ended the jurisdiction of the Holy Roman Emperor
over Protestant territories. While the latter, the Treaty of Osnabrück, was signed 5 months later, on
October 24, 1648, between the Holy Roman Emperor Ferdinand III and France. The treaty recog-
nised France’s territorial gains during the war and granted it control over certain territories in
Alsace and Lorraine. It also gave religious freedom to Protestants in France and ended French
support for German Protestants (Ibid.).
15
Romanticism places a premium on feeling rather than thinking. The Romanticist movement was
heavily influenced by cultural nationalism and religious traditions. Andrea and others write that
most German romanticism was an ardent wish to return to a golden age of mediaeval Roman
Catholicism when the Holy Roman Empire and a single spiritual culture united Europe (Neel &
Andrea, 2011). Peter Park elaborates that Westerners rewrote the history of Western philosophy in
the 1700s and 1800s (Park, 2013).
16
Henry Wheaton (1785–1848) was an American lawyer, diplomat, and author best known for his
contributions to international law. He is best known for his book “Elements of International Law,”
which was first published in 1836 and became one of the most widely used textbooks on interna-
tional law in the United States and Europe.
The treaty brought peace to the religious wars in Europe, wherein a predomi-
nantly Catholic Europe of 1500 embraced Protestantism by 1648 (Neel & Andrea,
2011).17 However, sovereign equality being part of the modern nation-states in
Europe was not extended to non-European states or colonised peoples. This led to a
particular mindset that portrayed Europeans as superior and marginalised non-
Western individuals. According to Mignolo, with the emergence of nation-states, it
became the primary instrument of imperial and colonial domination (Mignolo &
Escobar, 2013). The discipline’s exclusive focus on the Westphalian Peace Treaty is
an issue because it relegates the role of earlier treaties signed before the Westphalian
treaty to manage relations within Europe.18 Some of these salient treaties are
listed below:
The Treaty of Tordesillas, signed on June 7, 1494, was an agreement between
Spanish and Portuguese monarchs under the patronage of the Pope. It divided the
world between the Spanish and Portuguese spheres, as shown in Fig. 3
(Mignolo, 2021).
The Treaty of Zaragoza (Saragossa) was signed between the Spanish and
Portuguese monarchs on April 22, 1529. It refined the demarcation line established
earlier in the Treaty of Tordesillas by extending it to the Pacific Ocean. The same is
depicted in Fig. 4 (Ibid.).
The Treaty of Augsburg in 1555 ended the religious war between the German
Catholic and Protestant princes by allowing each prince to choose their version of
religion. This was achieved through the famous ‘Augsburg formula’ cuius regio eius
religio (the religion of the ruler is the religion of the people) (Lucian, 2014). As per
Teschke, the Peace of Augsburg was a precursor of modern statehood (Teschke,
2003) because it started a period of debate about princely authority on religion that
culminated 93 years later with the Westphalian treaties in 1648. The treaty offers
insights into the formulation history of international law and remains a significant
historical event that does not appear prominently in widely circulated IR‘s history.
For Knutsen, the period between 1555 and 1648 marks one of the most formative
periods in the history of International Relations theory (Knutsen, 1992). Europe
transformed during this period. The humanist movement founded by Renaissance
intellectuals highlighted the value of human dignity and individualism. There was a
quest to understand human nature and the relationship between religion and war.
The reformist demand resulted in religious upheavals, causing social and political
instability across Europe, culminating in the 30 Years War (1618–1648). Spanish
Conquista established colonises in the New World,19 and new trade routes
17
Most of Germany, Switzerland, Scotland, and England embraced Protestantism in Scandinavia.
18
The treaty is acknowledged for curbing the Holy Roman Empire’s desire for dominance and
creating a territorially defined and independent secular nation-state system. The treaty also pro-
moted political and religious tolerance across Europe, eventually spreading throughout the world
through European colonial empires (Baylis et al., 2020).
19
The Spanish Conquista (or Conquest) refers to the period of military conquest and colonisation
of the Americas by the Spanish Empire. The population of the Americas declined from an esti-
mated 50 million in the early sixteenth century to only 4 million in the seventeenth century.
Fig. 3 The Treaty of Tordesillas
Fig. 4 The Treaty of Zaragoza

exponentially boosted European expansion and dominance across the globe. While
the desire to ‘save pagan souls’ was a significant motive for this expansion, political
and economic factors provided the primary motivation. The objectives for explora-
tion, according to Spanish conqueror Bernal Diaz del Castillo, were ‘to serve God
and His Majesty, to offer light to people who were in darkness, and to gain wealthy
as all men wish to do’ (Neel & Andrea, 2011). Knutsen further informs about the
ensuing ‘Spanish dispute’ about whether indigenous peoples were wholly human
and entitled to the same rights and protections as Europeans (Knutsen, 1992).
There was also debate regarding the legitimacy of the war against them and the
necessity for a legal framework to govern relations between nations during overseas
exploration. These discussions aided in developing contemporary international law
and its fundamental concepts, including territory sovereignty, power balance, and
envoy inviolability. It also nudged European intellectuals to address new issues
about non-European peoples’ rights and the validity of European claims to territory
and resources outside Europe. It led to the crystallisation of the recognisably mod-
ern features of the territorial state infused with a new notion of sovereignty within
Europe. As a result, these conversations had far-reaching long-term consequences
for the profession’s development and the world order (Ibid.). It thus becomes appar-
ent that fundamental components of international politics, such as the emergence of
territorial states, sovereign rulers, and interactions with other states, began germi-
nating much before Westphalia. According to Jackson and Sorensen, this develop-
ment corresponded with the modern era (Jackson & Sørensen, 2013) or modernity.
The term modern relates to the social structures and practices that emerged in
Europe, matured during the Renaissance and Enlightenment, and spread throughout
the world with European imperialism. Modernity has been closely tied to colonial-
ism and capitalism as European empires accumulated vast resources and established
global trade and commerce networks, facilitating capitalism’s growth. For a decolo-
nial thinker, modernity is constitutive of coloniality and labelled as the darker side
of Western modernity by Mignolo (Mignolo, 2011). The Eurocentric perspective
emerging from modernity accord privilege to European governance, economy, and
social organisation models and view non-Western cultures and societies as primitive
or inferior (Quijano & Ennis, 2000). Dussel explains that modernity starts with the
notion that European civilisation is modern and superior. This superiority entails an
obligation to develop (civilise, elevate, and educate) other cultures by following the
West’s example. Violence is legitimised against those who oppose these civilising
efforts to eliminate impediments to modernisation. The perpetration of violence,
thus, is an essential redemptive sacrifice because modernity being an emancipatory
force will exonerate its victims (those who opposed the civilising process).
Therefore, suffering and sacrifices are inevitable and essential during civilising pro-
cess (Dussel, 1993). Mignolo explains that modernity was accompanied by a rheto-
ric that proclaimed modernity a panacea leading to happiness and redemptions
while masking its oppressive aspects. The rhetoric of modernity legitimised the
actions of Europeans, guaranteeing their interests and well-being under the guise of
science, politics, and the economy. This discourse universalised European thought
and excluded and exploited non-European cultures and societies through contempo-
rary authority, monopolising power (Mignolo, 2018).
The rhetoric of modernity assisted me in recognising the underlying Western
exceptionalism. It made me realise that Western philosophy, political thoughts, and
literature are unequal, racist, dehumanising, and structured to support Western
supremacy. For instance, as per Dussel, Hegel proclaims that modern Christian
Europe has nothing to learn from other worlds and cultures, substantiating this fal-
lacy (Dussel, 1993). At the same time, Unoki states that according to Hume, only a
white, civilised person could do or think anything important (Unoki, 2022). Edward
Said highlights a universal consensus about the Europeans’ right to be the superior
race with a primary duty to extend beyond its realm and govern the other inferior
people who need to be subjugated and directed by Europeans (Said, 1994). Branwen
Gruffydd informs that a profound belief in Europeans’ superiority over others and
the world’s social hierarchy was profoundly ingrained and reflected in the interna-
tional order (Jones, 2006). The Western thoughts elevated anything Western as
being fundamentally more important, historically significant, and worthy of atten-
tion than non-Westerners, producing attitudes of superiority, entitlement, and indif-
ference towards the non-West. Hamid Dabashi challenges this Western bias in his
work ‘Can Non-Europeans Think?’ (Dabashi, 2015). He calls for a more inclusive
and respectful approach to engaging with non-European cultures and ideas, promot-
ing a more nuanced understanding of the complexities of the global intellectual
landscape.
By the nineteenth century, Europe had achieved unprecedented global suprem-
acy, with several European nations exerting colonial and imperial control of their
colonies. The direct rule over vast swathes of the world helped create a habitus that
served as a conduit for disseminating political ideas and values that had been evolv-
ing in Europe for centuries to almost every non-Western society across the globe.20
While it proliferated Western values and concepts, it also created the colonial matrix
of power, causing subjugation of local customs and traditions and exploiting the
people and resources of colonised territories. This resulted in intense rivalry at times
leading to armed conflicts among European powers, which were often resolved
through diplomatic negotiations comprising a system of conferences, treaties, and
organisations underpinned by the principles of international law. Simeon E. Baldwin
informs that over 120 international meetings were held between 1826 and 1907 to
promote cooperation and solidarity among nations (Baldwin, 1907). While these
gatherings provided opportunities for the exchange of ideas and promoted mutual
understanding among nations, problematising them revealed their Eurocentric
20
Habitus, a concept introduced by French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu, describes the set of dispo-
sitions, attitudes, and behaviours acquired through socialisation that shape an individual’s world
perception. It plays a crucial role in shaping an individual’s tastes, preferences, and lifestyle
choices, which reflect their social status and position in society. It is a product of an individual’s
social background, cultural experiences, and education, and it influences one’s actions and choices
in various social contexts. Habitus operates unconsciously and guides an individual’s behaviour in
a particular direction. It plays a crucial role in shaping an individual’s tastes, preferences, and
lifestyle choices, reflecting their social status and societal position (Gregory et al., 2009).
nature, making it imperative to acknowledge that they were often shaped by colonial
biases and power dynamics, with European nations often holding a disproportionate
amount of power over their non-European counterparts. Despite this, Buzan and
Lawson, referring to Ole Wæver, observe that widely acknowledged IR literature
does not talk much about the nineteenth century, even though many important ideas
and connections between different events can be traced back to that period, and
argues that the mentioned era holds the key to understanding the roots of IR (Buzan
& Lawson, 2015).
The international relations discipline does not talk much about its history before
1919. In this context, Gruffydd informs that IR discipline is silent on its imperial
foundations (Jones, 2006). Krishna argues that the discipline is predicated on a
deliberate and systematic politics of forgetting, characterised by wilful amnesia
towards race, a legacy of European colonialism (Krishna, 2001). Meera Sabaratnam
informs that the prevailing universally acknowledged IR corpora neglects to account
for the role and influence of the European empire, imperialism, and colonialism in
shaping the discipline. She further points out a marked tendency to disregard the
experiences of non-Western peoples and societies in world history (Sabaratnam,
2020). Shilliam argues that widely accepted IR literature fails to acknowledge the
significance of colonial and imperial formations as an essential component of IR
theory, resulting in the confinement of discipline within the narrow boundaries of
Eurocentrism. The language of violence and order and the processes of colonialism
and cultural erasure are absent from this portrayal of the discipline (Shilliam, 2010).
Consequently, Saurin highlights that imperialism with Eurocentrism as its ideologi-
cal consort became the scriber of world knowledge – history, law and legal matters,
geography, social sciences, etc. (Saurin, 2006). Enrique Dussel discusses the link-
age between modernity and Eurocentrism. Unveiling the myth of modernity, he
argues that one generally subscribes to the integration of emancipation with the
notion of modernity, but it also justifies genocidal violence (Dussel, 1993). Vitalis
informs that imperialism did not oppose the existence of independent nation-states
of white individuals. However, it sought to impose authoritarian control over racial
minorities by the white governments (Vitalis, 2005).
The international world order of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, accord-
ing to Saurin, was imperial (Saurin, 2006). Goldstein and Pevehouse point out that
the imperial world order ensured power differentials between imperialist powers
and subjugated societies through various forms of exploitation and that a shared
Western racial identity was forged to bolster imperialist domination (Goldstein &
Pevehouse, 2014). Thakur and others inform that the agenda of transforming the
‘imperial empire’ into the ‘international’ and debates about scientific racialism were
masked while crafting the discipline (Davis et al., 2020). Stöckmann further ampli-
fies that the IR discipline coordinates much multidisciplinary knowledge. Its intel-
lectual influences included international law, history, economics, geography,
political theory, anthropology, psychology, philosophy, sociology, and what was
known as ‘race studies’. All this knowledge was shaped by the cumulative develop-
ment of Western culture from the Age of Exploration to that of Enlightenment.
International relations cover almost every area of human conduct, material,
intellectual, and political (Stöckmann, 2022). Against this backdrop, imperialism

figures out an endogenous dimension of the IR discipline’s history (Long & Schmidt,
2005). Although efforts to manage relations between sovereign nations and their
colonies date to 1492, it was not until the apex of European imperialism that courses
on international politics emerged in the nineteenth century to study the phenomenon
of managing relations among great powers and their colonies. Hence taking 1919 as
the starting point of the IR discipline obscures international thought that became
increasingly systematic much earlier. The Chichele Chair of International Law and
Diplomacy at Oxford, according to Mendes, commenced analysis of international
phenomena in 1859 (Mendes, 2019), while the teaching of international law at
Oxford extends even further back in time (Research). Long and Schmidt note that
the first School to teach international affairs in the US was the Columbia School of
Political Science, established in 1880, and sufficient literature was available for this
purpose (Long & Schmidt, 2005). Expanding upon Mignolo’s thesis regarding the
institutionalisation of European colonialism in Africa (1885–1914) through the
landmark Berlin Conference (Mignolo, 2021), one may surmise that the utilisation
of conferences, treaties, and organisations facilitated the systematic implementation
of imperialism during the nineteenth century. For instance, Lugard’s account states
that the guidelines governing European colonisation in Africa during the New
Imperialism era were formalised at the Congress of Berlin (1884–1885).
Additionally, establishing the International Colonial Institute in Belgium in 1894
provided a platform for discourse on the management and growth of European colo-
nies, including the publication of compendiums containing the legislation govern-
ing these territories (Lugard, 1933).21
Vitalis informs that the US Lake Mohonk Conferences initiated in 1880 though
initially centred on ‘Native American’ issues, gradually expanded to include ‘Other
Dependent People’ of the USA, to the Pan-American Conferences, to the Berlin
Conference, and finally to the Universal Races Congress held in London in 1911.
Most participants, Dunbar-Ortiz adds, self-recognised themselves as ‘friends of the
Indians’ but were essentially believers of manifest destiny.22 They advocated for a
policy of land assimilation resulting in the General Allotment Act of 1887. Though
the act appears benevolent in assimilating Native Americans into American society,
it carries a strand of coloniality of being as it encouraged them to abandon their
traditional ways of life (Dunbar-Ortiz, 2015; Vitalis, 2005). Drawing on Clark’s
work, Buzan and Lawson suggest inherent coloniality within the Hague Conferences
of 1899 and 1907. These gatherings aimed to impose certain limitations on the war
fought between the ‘civilised’ nations (European nations) (Buzan & Lawson, 2015).
This perspective supports the colonial logic that effectively relegated non-European
nations to a status of inferiority and thus denied them access to the same legal and
political safeguards enjoyed by their European counterparts. Denaturalising, in
21
The name of the International Colonial Institute was changed, after the Second world war, to the
“Institute of Political and social sciences applied to Countries with different civilisations” as the
term “Colonial” started to have negative connotations at the time of publication of the article.
essence, unveils the Hague Conferences, yet another manifestation of the colonial
project, entrenching the unequal power dynamics between Europe and the rest of
the world. It also contributes to the belief in the prevailing colonial hierarchies at the
time, where non-European nations were regarded as inferior. According to scholars
such as Jeannesson and Schnakenbourg, the Hague Conferences gave rise to the
creation of the Permanent Court of Arbitration (PCA) (Jeannesson & Schnakenbourg,
2020); however, it also substantiates that the neologism ‘international’ was con-
ceived solely in the context of relations between European empires and illustrates
how colonial biases and power dynamics continue to shape our understanding of the
world, even in ostensibly neutral and objective institutions such as the
PCA. Considering the denaturalisation process and the extensive imperial rule pres-
ent during the PCA’s inception, it becomes clear that this institution served as a
means of protecting imperial interests and asserting control over non-European
nations. In effect, the PCA functioned as a vital component of a broader strategy
employed by European colonial powers to impose their legal and political systems
upon non-European territories while simultaneously facilitating the peaceful resolu-
tion of disputes between European powers.
Decolonial thinking helped me comprehend the role of European colonialism
and imperialism in the discipline, which is quite substantial. However, there seems
to be a lack of European imperial and colonial in widely acknowledged IR litera-
ture. Hoffman informs that over 84 per cent of the world was under European colo-
nial rule circa 1914, an increase of nearly 50 per cent from land possessions of the
eighteenth century (Hoffman, 2015). Gruffydd Jones informs that during this period,
the colonisers espoused deeply ingrained and discriminatory beliefs about the colo-
nised peoples, territories, and histories. The widely held notion of a ‘great chain of
being’ demonstrates the superiority of European people over non-Europeans.23 This
belief was largely unchallenged and permeated Western philosophy, evident through
literary and political discourse. Rudyard Kipling’s concept of the ‘White Man’s
Burden’ (Unoki, 2022),24 which connects with the American’s manifest destiny, was
cloaked by the term ‘international mind’. According to Pemberton, it referred to a
particular way of thinking and behaving in foreign affairs that regarded the various
nations of the civilised world as equal partners in promoting progress, commerce,
22
Manifest Destiny, a term coined in 1845, is the idea that the white American settlers were divinely
ordained by God to expand its dominion and spread democracy and capitalism across the entire
North American continent (Hobson, 2012).
23
A belief that the entire universe is filled with beings and that each varies from those next to it only
to a microscopic degree, forming a continuous “great chain of being” (Gordon, 1993). Also known
as Christian scala naturae (the “ladder of nature”), rooted in Ancient Greek Philosophy, dominated
Western thinking for centuries throughout the Medieval and Renaissance periods.
24
“The White Man’s Burden” is the title of a poem penned by British poet Rudyard Kipling in 1899
and describes what he saw as the responsibility of the Western powers to civilise and Christianize
non-European peoples. The term is associated with the imperialistic attitudes of the time and has
been criticised as a justification for colonialism and the subjugation of non-Western societies. The
poem is addressed to the United States, which had recently acquired colonial possessions in the
Philippines. It calls on Americans to take up the burden of civilising the “savage” inhabitants of
those lands. Kipling’s portrayal of non-Western peoples as childlike and needing guidance has
been widely criticised as condescending and racist.
industry, and culture. Nicholas Butler, who coined the term, extensively propagated
this expression in international forums for years, notably in his opening address at
the Lake Mohonk Conference on International Arbitration on May 15, 1912, with
the belief that durable peace cannot exist without an international mind (Pemberton,
2019). Many of the period’s Political Science books, journals, and organisations had
a special section about colonial governance to emphasise proper management and
administration of colonies (Mendes, 2019). Some of the most significant courses,
organisations, books, and journals that preluded the formal establishment of the IR
discipline in 1919 are tabulated below:
S.No. Year Remarks

1. 1834 Arnold Hermann Ludwig Heeren’s 1834 book ‘A Manual of the History of the
Political System of Europe and its Colonies: From its Formation at the Close of
the Fifteenth Century to its Re-establishment upon the Fall of Napoleon’
provided historical context and commentary to comprehend international affairs
of the era (Heeren, 1834).
2. 1836 Elements of International Law, authored by Henry Wheaton, was first published
in 1836 (Acharya & Buzan, 2019).
4. 1859 Oxford University’s Chichele Chair of International Law and Diplomacy started
its study in 1859 (Mendes, 2019). Formal teaching of international law at
Oxford precedes Chichele chair (Research).
5. 1880 Columbia School of Political Science, established in 1880, served as a milestone
in the institutionalisation of IR (Long & Schmidt, 2005).25
6. 1884 James Lorimer’s The Institutes of the Law of Nations: A Treatise on the Jural
Relations of Separate Political Communities published in 1884 (Acharya &
Buzan, 2019).
7. 1889 American Academy of Political and Social Science (AAPSS) was founded in
1889 to advance research on political, economic, social, and policy concerns. Its
bimonthly journal, ‘The ANNALS’, was simultaneously launched in 1889 to
publish scholarly research (Stöckmann, 2022).
8. 1894 International Colonial Institute was established in Brussels, Belgium, in 1894 to
deliberate on European colonies and their management. It published papers
about the legislation of the colonies (Lugard, 1933).
9. 1898 George Washington University in Washington, DC, started a School of
Comparative Jurisprudence and Diplomacy in 1898 (Acharya & Buzan, 2019).
10. 1899– University of Wisconsin’s first IR course started in 1899–1900 (Ibid.),
1900 (Pemberton, 2019). Paul Reinsch also taught the course on contemporary
politics in 1906 (Mendes, 2019).
11. 1899 Alleyne Ireland’s Tropical Colonization: An Introduction to the Study of the
Subject was published in 1899 (Acharya & Buzan, 2019).
Benjamin F. Trueblood’s the Federation of the World published in 1899 (ibid.).
Inter-Parliamentary Union or International Arbitration League established in
1899 by Pacifist Franco-British politicians to facilitate international arbitration
and collaboration (Stöckmann, 2022).
25
William Burgess, the founder of the school and an influential political scientist, taught concepts
such as race purity, miscegenation, white right and duty, and the danger to primary institutions.
This generated creative ideas about the evolution and conflict of races, geopolitics, the necessity to
limit unrestricted immigration, Anglo-Saxon and Teutonic brilliance, black disfranchisement,
eugenics or race science, and the humanitarian standards of eradicating inferior races (Ibid.).
S.No. Year Remarks

12. 1900 Paul Reinsch, one of the leading American experts on colonialism, prophesied
the twentieth century to be the age of national imperialism, where a nation-state
endeavours to increase its resources by exploiting undeveloped regions and
inferior races without imposing political control upon highly civilised nations
(Reinsch, 1900) in his book ‘World Politics at the End of the nineteenth Century
as Influenced by the Oriental Situation’ which was published in 1900 (Acharya
& Buzan, 2019). It is acclaimed as the first book dealing with the IR discipline
(Groom et al., 2019).26
13. 1902 Paul Reinsch’s Colonial Government: An Introduction to the Study of Colonial
Institutions published in 1902 (Acharya & Buzan, 2019).
14. Alpheus Henry Snow’s book ‘The Administration of Dependencies’, published
in 1902, raised the possibility of establishing a ‘science of imperial relations’.
Arguing that just ‘as there is a recognised science of international relations and
the internal relations of nations and states, there may yet be recognised science
of imperial relations' (Long & Schmidt, 2005).
15. 1903 American Political Science Association founded in 1903 (Ibid.). It had a division
to research on colonial politics and colonial issues.
16. 1905 Raymond L. Bridgman’s book World Organization published (Acharya &
Buzan, 2019).
17. The International Conference on World Economic Expansion (Congrès
international d’expansion économique Mondiale) moot the idea of broadening
educational institutes’ curricula to encompass world affairs in 1905 (Pemberton,
2019).
18. 1906 Stephen Leacock’s book Elements of political science, published in 1906 (Long
& Schmidt, 2005).
19. Raymond Garfield Gettell’s book titled ‘introduction to political science’
claimed that the governmental problems involved in colonial rule ‘are of prime
importance to the student of political science’ (Ibid.)
20. 1907 The first professional IR journal, International Conciliation, dates from 1907
(Acharya & Buzan, 2019). There is no unanimity about the first IR academic
journal. Some point out that the International Conciliation was founded in 1910
and published by the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace. Others point
out that the first IR Journal was the Journal of Race Development (1910), later
designated the Journal of International Relations (1919), taking its final form in
1922 as Foreign Affairs (Vitalis, 2005; Mendes, 2019).
The American Journal of International Law dates from 1907 (Acharya & Buzan,
2019).
1909 Clark University began series of annual conference to discuss global regions.
Seven such meetings were held between 1909 and 1920 (Vitalis, 2005).
National Association for the Advancement of Coloured People (NAACP) was
established in 1909 with ‘The Crisis’ as its official journal and Du Bois as its
editor (Long & Schmidt, 2005).
26
The book helped establish a discursive framework for imperialism and colonialism and outlines
an idea of international relations as a discipline (Long & Schmidt, 2005). The book discusses dif-
ferent political methods of the new national imperialism, ranging from highlighting the importance
of sea power to the requirement of forming industrial and agricultural colonies. It begins with a
broad overview of the significant economic, political, and intellectual forces currently influencing
international politics in the era. It included discussions on the Hague Conference, international
administration and demands for policing the world (Ibid.).
S.No. Year Remarks

1910 Carnegie Endowment for International Peace started publishing International
Conciliation, arguably the first professional journal in the field of IR (Groom
et al., 2019).27
The Journal of Race Development commenced publishing from 1910. It was
rechristened as Foreign Affairs in 1922. In Britain, the earliest IR journal was
The Roundtable (1910), which initially came with the subtitle: A Quarterly
Review of the Politics of the British Empire (Acharya & Buzan, 2019).
1911 Paul Reinsch’s public international unions – their work and organisation: A
study in international administrative law was published in 1911 (Ibid.).
1915 The Women’s international league for peace and freedom was founded in 1915
as a lobby group (Ibid.)
1916 G. Lowes Dickinson’s the European anarchy published in 1916 (Ibid.).
A. F. Grant, Arthur Greenwood, J. D. I. Hughes, P. H. Kerr and F. F. Urquhart
published an introduction to international Relations in 1916 (Ibid.).
David P. Heatley’s diplomacy and the study of international Relations published
in 1919 (Ibid.).
The preceding discussion suggests several crucial details connecting the disci-
pline with European imperialism and colonialism have been overlooked in the self-
conception and widely accepted history of International Relations. The rhetoric of
modernity persists in attempting to obscure the embedded imperial and colonial
distinctions in IR literature. Courses, books, journals, and publications existed well
before 1919, which enabled us to comprehend that the primary concern of Western
philosophers during that era was maintaining interracial relationships with non-
Western nations. Although European colonial empires played a significant and
undeniable role in shaping the international system and power dynamics through
the legacy of colonialism, their absence in the history of International Relations is a
glaring omission and raises concerns.
Conclusion
My path of decolonial study, which included unlearning and relearning, was genu-
inely transforming and tremendously influencing my self-development. It forced
me to face and reject the cognitive power structures, epistemologies, and world-
views formed in my thinking by knowing coloniality. In denaturalising my precon-
ceptions, I discovered that decolonial thinking necessitates a fundamental change in
how we perceive life and its different purposes. This unlearning and relearning pro-
cess took more work. It often forced me to face painful realities and firmly held
beliefs. Initially, I felt that after being acquainted with decolonial thinking, I would
27
The Endowment’s founder, the industrialist-philanthropist Andrew Carnegie, had addressed a
letter to the Universal Peace Congress in 1904, urging that a union of all the leading states renounce
war and announce their intention to enforce this declaration
need to modify some of my views. However, I quickly recognised that the whole
discipline is infused with imperial ideals.
This reminded me of the proverb, ‘There is nothing black in the lentils, but the
whole lentil dish is black,’ which speaks to the concept of systemic corruption,
where the fault lies not in a single incident or individual but instead in the inherent
structures and institutions that allow such malfeasance to occur. This proverb high-
lights the need for thorough and systemic transformation above surface-level fixes
that fail to address the source of the issue. It emphasises the significance of looking
closely and critically at the broader systems and structures that underpin the diffi-
culties we encounter, understanding that the fundamental foundations upon which
our assumptions are built may be wrong. One of the prevalent fallacies that underlie
most traditional explanations of the discipline’s origins is that it originated with the
onset of World War I. However, my study reveals that this dogmatic belief needs to
be revised and that the discipline’s colonial and imperial beginnings remain cloaked,
camouflaged by modernity’s language. Many researchers are still grappling with
these difficulties and seeking methods to decentre and decolonise the discipline to
foster more varied, inclusive, and fair viewpoints and practise.
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Syed Wajeeh Ul Hassan is a PhD scholar specializing in International Relations at the University
of Management and Technology in Lahore, Pakistan. He completed his MPhil in Strategic Security
Management from the National Defence University, Islamabad in 2018. Prior to that, he obtained
a Master of Arts in Defence from King’s College London in 2006 and a Master’s degree in Politics
and Policy from Deakin University, Australia in 2015. He is also an alumnus of Near East South
Asia Centre for Strategic Studies. Mr. Hassan’s research interests revolve around the topics of
Coloniality, Maritime Security, and the Indo-Pacific region. His expertise in these areas contributes
to a deeper understanding of the complex dynamics shaping global security and the significance of
maritime domains. He can be reached at S2020372003@umt.edu.pk and hassan.sw.ncw@
gmail.com
Fatima Waqi Sajjad is the founding Director of the Centre for Critical Peace Studies and
Associate Professor at the University of Management and Technology Lahore, Pakistan. Her work
questions epistemic violence and injustice in Peace Studies and beyond. She is the author of ‘A
subaltern gaze on White ignorance, (in) security and the possibility of educating the White rescue
plans’ (2023). Security Dialogue; ‘On the delusion of disobedience amid coloniality: location
Pakistan’ (2023). Third World Quarterly; ‘Rethinking education to counter violent extremism: a
critical review of policy and practice’ (2022). Ethics and Education, 17(1).
Index
A D
Africa, 143–146, 151, 193, 215 Decoloniality, 40, 130, 134
Decolonial thinking, 200, 201, 204–207,
216, 219
B Decolonization, 12, 17, 18, 66, 80, 116, 125,
Banisadr, A., 7, 157–179 140, 150, 152, 185–187, 194
Border thinking, 40, 123, 135 Delinking, 48, 58, 123, 125, 135
Democracy, 16, 33, 37–60, 157–159, 162, 169
Dewesternization, 40
C
Canada, 2, 6, 22, 140–143, 152
Cheju April Third, 80 E
Co-creating, 12, 32 Epistemic revolt, 58
Cold War Massacre, 70 Ethic of restoration, 32, 33
Collective efficacy, 60 Eurocentrism, 108, 111, 183, 186, 187,
Colonialism, 4, 6, 18, 23, 24, 38, 43, 59, 66, 194, 214
118, 122–124, 127, 131, 133, 134, 142,
143, 149, 151, 184, 186, 191–193, 195,
201, 204, 205, 207, 212, 214–216, F
218, 219 French & English bilingualism, 146, 151
Coloniality, 4, 6, 17, 80, 134, 184–187,
190, 191, 193, 194, 201, 206, 212,
215, 219 I
Colonial matrix of power (CMP), 40, 55, 123, Imperialism, 50, 54, 118, 124, 131, 186–189,
125, 134, 183, 187, 201, 205, 213 191–193, 200, 204, 205, 207, 212,
Colonization of peasants’ villages, 90–97 214–216, 218, 219
Counterstory telling, 123, 125, 127, 128, 130 India, 5, 6, 38–40, 54–56, 60, 140–143, 195
Coup d’état, 77, 160, 177, 178 Indigenous ceremonies, 65–80
Culture, 6, 12, 15, 18, 20, 25, 28, 30, 31, 41, Indigenous wisdom, 17, 19, 20, 22–25, 27–32
46, 54, 55, 60, 67, 73, 78, 80, 107, 111, Inequity, 108, 115
113, 116, 118, 128–132, 134, 141, 148, International relations (IRs), 7, 45, 48,
175, 184, 185, 189, 193, 195, 203, 206, 183–196, 199–219
212–214, 217 Intersectionality, 108, 109, 112, 118, 132
Curriculum, 27, 108, 109, 111, 112, 218 Iranian Revolution, 7, 160, 178, 179
© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive license to 225
Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-41965-2
226 Index
K P
Khamenei, A., 162, 165, 166, 168, 170–172 Pakistan, 2, 6, 7, 39, 50, 189–195
Khomeini, A., 161 Palestinian CRT, 6, 123, 125–128, 132–134
Korean-American settler journeys, 75–77 Peace, 1–7, 11–33, 39, 40, 49–60, 69, 79, 80,
122–135, 142, 143, 200, 209,
210, 217–219
L Peace psychology, 1, 2, 4, 5
Language, 6, 12, 49, 68, 107, 109, 119, 131, Peasants’ culture of resistance, 89, 90
132, 139–152, 157, 158, 187, 189, 191,
192, 194, 196, 205, 206, 214, 220
Lesson planning, 112–113, 116 R
Liberation, 1–7, 40, 48, 60, 69, 73–75, 78, 80, Rafsanjani, H., 159, 160, 172–174, 176–178
107–119, 123, 125, 126, 132, 133, Resistance, 5, 6, 17, 68, 107, 116,
184–186, 205 122–135, 178
Liberation psychology, 2, 3, 5, 7, 14, 60, 67,
87, 88, 123, 184–188, 205, 206
Liberation theology, 37–60 S
Linguistic genocide, 140, 151, 152 Self-efficacy, 60
Spirituality, 5, 12, 22, 24–26, 32, 38
M
Military-landlordism, 6, 86–90, 93, 95, 97, 98, T
102, 105 The Baltic States, 140
N W
Native languages, 6, 30, 142, 146, 148, 152 Westphalian myth in IR, 209

Peace As Liberation

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Peace Psychology Book Series

Series Editor: Daniel J. Christie

Fatima Waqi Sajjad Editor

Series Advisory Board

ISSN 2197-5779 ISSN 2197-5787 (electronic)

Paper in this product is recyclable.

Peace as Liberation: Visions and Praxis from Below is a welcome intervention in

We are living through a profoundly significant moment in the history of

Editor, Peace Psychology Book Series Daniel J. Christie

Lahore, Pakistan Fatima Waqi Sajjad

Part I Reimagining Peace from Below

Part II Transformational Resistance to Undo Oppression

Part III Problematizing Hegemonic Discourses

Sohaib Ali University of Management and Technology, Lahore, Pakistan

Fatima Waqi Sajjad

Introduction: Let Me Be Fully Human

Violence is a central problem of Peace Psychology. The discipline seeks to identify,

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 1

marginalized and racialized scholars, by collecting their diverse visions, testimo-

Of Psychological Science and Human Beings

What does a man want?

The third part of the volume is titled Problematizing Hegemonic Discourses. It

DSM 5 Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders

I ntroduction to the Context or Ko wai au? (Who

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 11

heart, curiosity, and humbleness as opposed to the intention of conquering, subju-

Concepts of liberation psychology (Torres Rivera, 2020) resonate with my

 iberating Oppressed, Oppressors, and In-Betweeners

Coloniality is a system of devaluation that corrosively eats away sovereignty, personal

In my Universe, decolonization is a personal, professional, political, cultural, and

shall we allow technology to replace it with a consequence of the world becoming

communal to survive. It is just that in financially poorer communities relying on

 estoring the Damage Inflicted by Colonization: A Dream or

It may seem impossible to restore the damage inflicted by colonization as wounds

Shifting Paradigms: Decolonising Minds

Indigenous wisdom and spiritualities cannot create a real transformation; however,

How Can We Transform It All Together?

Massive indoctrination brought by colonisation (and consequent exploitative capi-

Remembering in this context relates to becoming members of the planetary alliance

I ndividualism and Pain of Patriarchy: Going Beyond

and sympathy (Brown, 2013) perceiving empathy as a deeply relational communi-

Fig. 1 Meihana model. (Pitama et al., 2007)

An entity composed by contextual mutual learning through interaction. This process of

Ownership and Unhelpful Binaries

As Lesley Rameka (2015) noted:

The ethics of restoration is a process, not an event. It is a consensual, reciprocal

Ksenija Napan is a hopeless optimist attempting to dismantle seemingly opposing polarities

AIMC All-India Muslim Conference

Dwellers of Western lands, God’s world is not a shop!

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 37

work done on liberation and peace psychology from a non-Western perspective

Data Sources and Analysis

Selfhood: Knowledge, Being, and Causal Efficacy

Framing the Problématique

‘requires today a method physiologically less violent and psychologically more

Knowledge, according to Iqbal’s twofold characterization, ‘is sense-perception

Nonetheless, he cautions against disregarding intuition ‘as a mysterious special fac-

Ontological and Causal Theses

Iqbal’s epistemological outlook seeks to extend our ontological horizon beyond

Guided by the Prophet’s religious experience, the inner experience of Muslims is

for resisting the scepticism inducing materialist currents ushered in by modernity

 ollective Conduct: Pursuing Peace Across Faiths

Envisioning a Theopolitical Ideal

Editor, Peace Psychology Book Series Daniel J. Christie

Lahore, Pakistan Fatima Waqi Sajjad

Part I Reimagining Peace from Below

Part II Transformational Resistance to Undo Oppression

Part III Problematizing Hegemonic Discourses

Introduction: Let Me Be Fully Human

Of Psychological Science and Human Beings

I ntroduction to the Context or Ko wai au? (Who

iberating Oppressed, Oppressors, and In-Betweeners

estoring the Damage Inflicted by Colonization: A Dream or

Shifting Paradigms: Decolonising Minds

How Can We Transform It All Together?

I ndividualism and Pain of Patriarchy: Going Beyond

Ownership and Unhelpful Binaries

Data Sources and Analysis

Selfhood: Knowledge, Being, and Causal Efficacy

Framing the Problématique

Ontological and Causal Theses

ollective Conduct: Pursuing Peace Across Faiths

Envisioning a Theopolitical Ideal

Revisioning the Past

Navigating the Present and Securing the Future

Background on Cheju Island

Ceremonies, Archives, and Liberation

Techniques for Survival and Settler Journeys

Mass Atrocity Prevention and Ongoing Challenges

Colonization of Peasants’ Social Life

Recovering Historical Memory

Deideologizing Everyday Experiences

ecolonized Social Life: A Perspective and Practice of Peace

Virtues of the People

Pandemic: Making the Invisible Visible

Filling the IQ Gaps Through Lesson Planning

“ I do not want to get Political in the Classroom.” Freud, the

earning Objectives for Us All: Critical

Liberation Health Model: Case Studies in Class

Ending with an Offering: Class Activity

nderstanding the Need for Counterstories: Palestine Under

heoretical Frameworks: Critical Race Theory

Palestinian Feminist Epistemologies

Critical Race Theory

alestinian Counterstories: Centering Culture, Peace,

Conclusion: Peace for Palestinians