Colonial Caring covers over a century of colonial nursing by nurses from a wide range of countries including: Denmark, Britain, USA, Holland and Italy; with the colonised countries including South Africa, Australia, New Zealand, Ethiopia, Nigeria, India, Indonesia (Dutch East Indies) and the Danish West Indies. It presents unique perspectives from which to interrogate colonialism and post-colonialism including aspects of race, cultural difference and implications of warfare and politics upon nursing. Viewing nursing’s development under colonial and post-colonial rule reveals different faces of a profession that superficially may appear to be consistent and coherent, yet in reality is constantly reinventing itself. Considering such areas as transnational relationships, class, gender, race and politics, this book aims to present current work in progress within the field, to better understand the complex entanglements in nursing’s development as it was imagined and practised in local imperial, colonial and post-colonial contexts. Taking a chronologically-based structure, early chapters examine nursing in situations of conflict in the post-Crimean period from the Indian Rebellion to the Anglo-Boer War. Recruitment, professionalisation of nursing and of military nursing in particular, are therefore considered before moving deeper into the twentieth century reflecting upon later periods of colonialism in which religion and humanitarianism become more central. Drawing from a wide range of sources from official documents to diaries, memoirs and oral sources, and using a variety of methodologies including qualitative and quantitative approaches, the book represents ground-breaking work.
T HE COLONIAL GROUND
you consider yourselves guests or foreigners in this space?
Rodrigo: Vicuña Mackenna
wanted to turn Santiago into Paris; you only have to think about
that! I feel that this part of the city is not habitable; it is only
for transit, especially for those of us who come from outside the
Coco: I would not want to make
the Plaza de Armas Mapuche. I would remove the kultxun
In 1941 the Colonial Office made a commitment to fund scientific research into the chemistry of sugar. If sugar cane could be used to make plastics, building materials, drugs and other synthetic products, then it was hoped the British West Indies would find themselves in the fortunate position of being producers of a lucrative raw material for the chemical industry rather than a low-value foodstuff. This was a vision that endowed laboratory research with the power to transform the economic and social life of the British West Indies. But how
Colonial powers and Ethiopian frontiers 1880–1884 is the fourth volume of Acta
Aethiopica, a series that presents original Ethiopian documents of
nineteenth-century Ethiopian history with English translations and scholarly
notes. The documents have been collected from dozens of archives in Africa and
Europe to recover and present the Ethiopian voice in the history of Ethiopia in
the nineteenth century. The present book, the first Acta Aethiopica volume to
appear from Lund University Press, deals with how Ethiopian rulers related to
colonial powers in their attempts to open Ethiopia for trade and technological
development while preserving the integrity and independence of their country. In
addition to the correspondence and treatises with the rulers and representatives
of Italy, Egypt and Great Britain, the volume also presents letters dealing with
ecclesiastical issues, including the Ethiopian community in Jerusalem.
Bayly 02_Tonra 01 21/06/2011 10:17 Page 39
Indigenous and colonial origins of
comparative economic development:
the case of colonial India and Africa
In recent years the debate about comparative economic development has
broadened out to take account of work in other major human sciences, particularly anthropology, sociology, philosophy and history. Development specialists
have become increasingly aware of the need to understand the history and
ideologies of the societies within which they work in order to encourage better
reactions to their
Royal Tourists, Colonial Subjects, and the Making of a British World, 1860-1911 examines the ritual space of nineteenth-century royal tours of empire and the diverse array of historical actors who participated in them. The book is a tale of royals who were ambivalent and bored partners in the project of empire; colonial administrators who used royal ceremonies to pursue a multiplicity of projects and interests or to imagine themselves as African chiefs or heirs to the Mughal emperors; local princes and chiefs who were bullied and bruised by the politics of the royal tour, even as some of them used the tour to symbolically appropriate or resist British cultural power; and settlers of European descent and people of colour in the empire who made claims on the rights and responsibilities of imperial citizenship and as co-owners of Britain’s global empire. Royal Tourists, Colonial Subjects, and the Making of a British World suggests that the diverse responses to the royal tours of the nineteenth century demonstrate how a multi-centred British-imperial culture was forged in the empire and was constantly made and remade, appropriated and contested. In this context, subjects of empire provincialized the British Isles, centring the colonies in their political and cultural constructions of empire, Britishness, citizenship, and loyalty.
As Megan Vaughan has pointed out,
for most of the colonial period in Africa, Christian missions
‘provided vastly more medical care than did colonial
states’. 1 Indeed,
from the outset of European colonial rule, most imperial states left the
provision of the majority of education and healthcare to Christian
In colonial Malawi
immigrants from Arabia, principally from Muscat, Oman or Hadramaut. A
further section of the population had ties to the Indian subcontinent,
made up of Indians, Pakistanis and Goans – a religious mix of
Moslems, Ismailis and Hindus. The situation presents a striking
historical example of a colonial power having to formulate policies that
were applicable to different, yet cohabiting, populations.
From 2010 to 2013 the Charité Human Remains Project researched the provenance of the
remains of fifty-seven men and women from the then colony of German South West Africa. They
were collected during German colonial rule, especially but not only during the colonial war
1904–8. The remains were identified in anthropological collections of academic
institutions in Berlin. The article describes the history of these collections, the aims,
methods and interdisciplinary format of provenance research as well as its results and finally
the restitutions of the remains to Namibia in 2011 and 2014.
Debates on the relevance of repatriation of indigenous human remains are water under the bridge today. Yet, a genuine will for dialogue to work through colonial violence is found lacking in the European public sphere. Looking at local remembrance of the Majimaji War (1905–7) in the south of Tanzania and a German–Tanzanian theatre production, it seems that the spectre of colonial headhunting stands at the heart of claims for repatriation and acknowledgement of this anti-colonial movement. The missing head of Ngoni leader Songea Mbano haunts the future of German–Tanzanian relations in heritage and culture. By staging the act of post-mortem dismemberment and foregrounding the perspective of descendants, the theatre production Maji Maji Flava offers an honest proposal for dealing with stories of sheer colonial violence in transnational memory.