Our
World: Articles & Essays
Issue 005 April 1997: Painting in Arabic
MODERN
EGYPTIAN ART- The Emergence Of a National Style
SUDAN
- Art and Poetry
Icônes
et
Iconographie: Essay By Sami Khoury.
Contribution
To Postcolonial Discourse By Anna Seif
MODERN EGYPTIAN ART - The
Emergence of a National Style
By Liliane Karnouk
From the introduction of Ms. Karnouk's book by the same name.
Egypt is a land of polarities: a fertile black valley juxtaposed to
and sands, a temperate Mediterranean coast that dissolves into the African
continent. It is an agricultural oasis that sheltered a traditional way
of life for thousands of years, and an intercontinental crossroads open
to every external cultural and political influence. Further, it is both
a country included in the transnational Islamic ummah and a nation with
its own distinctive character formed by a long history of successive civilization:
Pharaonic, Coptic, Arab and European. For the modern Egyptian artist, the
polarities and paradoxes multiply.
Modern Egyptian artists share many concerns with artists from other
previously colonized third world nations that have recently achieved national
independence. In such countries, art always involves a search for renewed
identity and national consciousness; it serves as an indicator of social
and political change. It was not by accident that, in the Egypt of the
1920s, the modern art movement and the nationalist movement coincided.
In Egypt, modern artistic expression has both emerged from nationalism
and given that nationalism tangible form in much the same way that, in
other contexts, Gothic architecture debated mediaeval Christian theology
or classical Greek theatre debated philosophy.
 |
Mahmud Said
Banat Bahari
1937
|
Soon after Napoleon's expedition to Egypt in 1798, the concepts of both
European aesthetics and of a world of nation-states were planted in the
Egyptian urban intellectual milieu. It took more than one hundred years
for Egyptians to adapt these notions to fit their own interests. In the
development of modern art and nationalism, both artists and politicians
responded to the change of identity produced when the idea of belonging
to an autonomous ethnicity (be it Coptic or Islamic and so on) evolved
into that of nationality: a unified Egyptian nation.
Ethnic arts embody a collective folk tradition rooted in the rituals
and cultural history of the community. These ethnic arts flourished, quite
independently of each other, within the Islamic ummah-the mosaic of races,
cultures and nationalities which form the community of Islam. By contrast,
the concept of art as it evolved in Europe over the past centuries was
firmly rooted in the modern concept of nationhood and regimented by the
same rules (unification and centralization within its borders, autonomy
and differentiation from other nations). Further, the aesthetics of European
art assume that, regardless of its specific national origins, the visual
language of high art (a fundamentally urban, elitist language) is universal,
and that great artists from all nations compete for the mastery and control
of its vocabulary. Thus, ethnic and modern oppose each other: the former
is regional and (at least in Egypt's case within the ummah) transnational,
while the latter is centralized and international.
From rural and communal roots, a modern nation such as Egypt could not
have developed without a deep and complex cultural revolution. The Egyptian
artist has had to resolve a double dilemma. The first is whether or not
to become an artist in the European individualistic sense and thus risk
losing a connection to the native soil and its traditions, or whether to
revive the traditional ethnic arts and risk remaining marginal to the world
of international high art. The second dilemma is the need to articulate
the existence of several value-systems historically coexisting within this
nation on two levels: the Islamic and the Egyptian.
In Egypt, modernism expressed itself in artists' efforts to transform
an Egypto-Islamic style into the new "universal" visual language
of international art, while at the same time expressing the new self-image
of Egyptian political reform. Modernism, which began with the wearing of
the first imported tie, rapidly expanded to affect the applied arts. In
the fine arts, however, it had a relatively slow start: like music, art
cannot be explained by simply translating it into the native language.
It must be simultaneously experienced and understood. Art had to be introduced
through instruction and that could only be provided by western artists.
In his book La Peinture Egyptienne, Aime Azar observes that, with rare
exceptions, the first two. generations of artists up to the mid- 1930s
produced samples of a sub-product, and that the School of Fine Arts provided
instruction based on cliches without foundation and limited itself to the
teaching of canonical rules. However, he adds that the apprenticeship had
to be undergone and that failures were inevitable so that the next generation
would successfully master this imported art.'
Unlike the situation in western Europe, where modernism sprang out of
rapid technological development, modernism in Egypt was embraced as a symbolic
inducement to cultural and political change. Its successes have occurred
as Egyptian artists break through the ambivalence, polarities and paradoxes
of their situation and, by mastering formal means of expression, develop
greater individual freedom and confidence in responding to the historic
moment. Although highly personal and unique to each artist, this achievement
is well-illustrated in a recent statement by the painter Sarwat al-Bahr:
'No need to say that I am not the only one to experience those feelings
which I try so clumsily to express. I can only claim to add my personal
contribution as an artist who is feeling his way in a universe of three
dimensions: the Pharaonic, the Arab and the Universal, and who breathes
air through those three lungs. At first, I tried in vain to synchronize
their rhythms. Then I realized that each of them has their own way of gasping,
laughing, sobbing ... I decided then to breathe according to my own nature,
to express myself in the rhythm of my breath at that very moment, more
than happy if that breath carried me into the past or the future and allowed
me to capture the moment, loaded with past, loaded with future.'
The search for a balance between loyalty to an imposing past and the
effort to liberate oneself from its burden is the key to modern Egyptian
art.
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Sudan - Art
and Poetry
Rashid Diab
From Contemporary Art from the Islamic World
Edited by Wijdan Ali
Published for the Royal Society of Arts in Jordan by Scorpion Publishing
When the Greeks occupied Egypt, they called all lands south of Egypt
'Ethiopia'. The Romans, who followed the Greeks in Egypt, adopted the same
name.
Ethiopia comes from the ancient Egyptian name 'Tanhesu'. When the Arabs
conquered Egypt they called our country 'Bilad al-Sudan', the Arabic equivalent
of 'Ethiopia', which included the lands extending from the Red Sea to the
Atlantic Ocean, in which black, dark skinned people were found. Today the
word 'Sudan' refers to the Nilitic Sudan, a region that became a political
entity only after the Turkish-Egyptian conquest in 1821, but whose impact
in history goes back many thousands of years before the birth of Christ.
The Sudan appears on the stage of world history thanks to the cultural
and commercial relations that the ancient Egyptian kingdoms maintained
with the indigenous civilizations, such as the kingdom of Napta and the
Meroitic kingdom. The latter are considered among the most important of
African civilizations, based in African soil and developed by the local
population. All sorts of influences, from Syria, Persia, India, and even
China, have been traced in its art. The Christian and Islamic periods also
have great significance for Sudan.
The entry of Arabs into Sudan after the rise of Islam added a new
radical element to the races already present, supplied the country with
a new religion, the Arabic language, and Islamic culture, connecting it
intimately with the rest of the Islamic world.
Perhaps painting is the greatest anomaly in Sudan. Except for the ancient
Pharaonic paintings, as well as Islamic, Christian and Coptic art, painting
can be considered comparatively new in Sudan as it has only appeared within
the last half century. Also painting is thought to be very influenced by
Western art styles. This is due to the fact that nomadism of one sort or
another was the most common form of life in Sudan, and so the Sudanese
were unable to develop an urban culture that would create the conditions
required for the practice of the fine arts.
Besides nomadism, the whole ambiance blocked the appearance of formative
art, on account of the restrictions of Islam on human representation. At
the same time the nomads' art (leather work, metalwork, containers, weapons,
carpets, jewelry) though very modest has its importance as the vehicle
of certain motifs which reappear in contemporary fine arts.
Traditionally poetry was the main art of Sudan. It played a crucial
role in fostering national sentiments; even during time of extreme political
oppression, when speech and the press were stifled, songs were expressions
of current emotions.
The conversion of Sudan to Islam was effected by nomadic people
who besides the Book could bring with them only such forms of art as could
travel: poetry and calligraphy.
The poets who dominated the Sudanese literary world in the 1920s were
public orators and performers. The art of poetry had then the original
function of delivering a religious message. Many were romantics, longing
for the glories of the past, such as Abdalah Abd al-Rahman, Albnna; the
romantic mystical school of poetry El-Fajar (Dawn), 1932-1934, led by el-Tingali
Yousif Bashir, Hamza el-Malk Tambal.... They started a certain imagery
that fused tradition with the force and drama of life into a new concept
of poetry. The creative artist began to respond with visual forms and new
ways of expression. The earliest among these artists, being untrained,
their work might have remained unknown were it not for the shows of Giha's
and Ali-Osman, and the painting and exhibitions of Ahmed Salim and others
in the early 40s. The works of the period tend to be figurative, devoted
mainly to landscape and different aspects of Sudanese daily life.
The new Sudanese painting and Sculpture started only a few decades
ago, when Sudanese artists came increasingly into contact with the outside
world. The present Khartoum Faculty of Fine and Applied Arts started in
1951 as the School of Design, and produced many interesting artists in
the late 1950s, but has produced little significant work since then. This
is due to traditional Western art education, which consists mainly in teaching
the history created by Europeans and because the purpose of the school
was to graduate teachers, drawers and designers for the colonial administration.
The following decade, 1950-60, saw Sudanese new art develop at an accelerated
pace. Among the several schools and tendencies in the wide area of painting
and sculpture, we can trace three main movements of artistic expression
in the country. The most important one is the Khartoum school, composed
of a group that includes painters and sculptors, who intend to rediscover
their Sudanese identity.
The artist Shibrain explains that it 'married both the African and
Islamic visual traditions to Sudanese customs'. The characteristics of
expression were so decidedly Sudanese in nature, and successfully executed,
that, according to Shibrain, the Jamaican artist, historian and scholar,
Denis Williams, was prompted to refer to the indigenous contribution as
'Khartoum school'.
A new syntax was started by poets, composers and plastic artists during
the period following independence, in which most of the important modern
Sudanese artists began their careers. But in this short time they have
produced quantities of marvelous original works.
In Sudan where the Arab culture of the north meets the Negro cultures
from the south, the Sudanese artist has to combine the essentials and fundamentals
of the arts of these disparate groups. This peculiarity characterizes and
individualizes Sudanese art and the Sudanese artist.
Salahi with Shibrain were the principal founders of the old Khartoum school
which interprets forms that give a new expression of our society. They
usually employ traditional Islamic motives and calligraphy, but Salahi,
unlike Shibrain, makes a considerable use of non-Islamic motives. He combines
human figures, animals and natural elements with forms of Islamic derivation.
However, the old Khartoum school never had a manifesto. 'We never thought
of it, because our work emerges naturally, its logic is to regenerate our
heritage and try to inspire and interpret what we really feel about our
life. 'Shibrain added: 'The manifesto is a Western attitude and we are
not in need of it, especially in this case.'
The old Khartoum school is characterized by the use of popular African
and Islamic motifs for design rather than for interpretive patterns, the
abstraction of calligraphic letters with the symbol of African mask motifs.
In the Afro-Islamic compositions they create visual novels to bring
together all the cultural experiences of Sudan so as to form an intermarriage
in which no one dominates.
Abd Allah Eteibi, Ibrahim el-Awaam, Kamala Ibrahim, Musa Khalifa,
Osman Wagialla, Salih el-Zaki, Gamman, Hassan el-Hadi, Tag Ahmed, and a
number of others are also members of the old Khartoum school; they share
the mystery of African ritual with the holy text of the Koran, north Nubian
civilisation, Islamic civilisation's sufi tradition and the Christian/Coptic
churches.
The modern Khartoum school is different from the old one. It shows
less influence from Sudan's cultural past and is more Western orientated
in its media and technique. Some of these artists, for example Ahmed Almardi,
Seif el-Lautta, Isam Abd Alhaliz, are still using Sudanese images; others,
Salih el-Zaki, Rabbah, el-Gatim, try to look for new local materials and
techniques; the artist Salih el-Zaki tends to combine Sudanese traditional
objects (basket work) with painting and mixed media (collage), while Rabbah
developed a 'solar engraving technique' which traditional artists of Sudan
use in decorating calabashes and gourds; he also reflects Sudanese themes,
and frequently employs both African religious symbolism with Arabic calligraphy
in creating new patterns and designs to interpret the contemporary environment.
The critics contend that the Khartoum school actually produces tourist
art. At least those who came later, at the beginning of the 70s, were producing
a conventional art for the European market, and they have lost the basic
intention of the pioneer artists of restoring the cultural heritage in
the aftermath of the colonisers.
The Crystallists were the only group who declared a manifesto, very
similar to the modern European movements. The well-known painter and head
of the painting department at the Faculty of Fine Arts (Khartoum), Kamala
Isahag, was identified with the Crystallist group in spite of the inclination
in most of her work towards social problems (pertaining to women) in Sudan,
and the successful intention to restate an aesthetic of the Sudanese heritage
in contemporary expression. The third main tendency has become known as
conventional art on account of its formal resemblance to modern European
painting and sculpture. it shows little influence from Sudan's cultural
past, but it does appeal to part of the public on account of the high quality
in its overall expression and composition.
Many other artists remain apart from any classification of style.
They do not associate themselves with either movement, the Khartoum school
or the Crystallism school.
Ahmed Abd Alaal, Omer Khairy, and Hassan Ali Ahmed have created their
own schools. Ahmed Abd Alaal successfully blends influences from several
disparate cultures in a highly original Sufi vision. Omer Khairy (George
Edward) keeps creating the reality of his daily existence in a remarkable
sense of composition and unlimited imagination with eternally mysterious
logical instinct.
Hassan Ali Ahmed, a young representative of abstract art, hard working
and talented, sometimes emotional, is a leader of abstract and modern painting
in the country.
Sudanese contemporary art embraces a whole range of styles, each of
which is clearly distinguishable and corresponds to a specific decade and
generation or groups of artists, although no specific style could be described
as more or less Sudanese than any other. It is an example of diversity
in unity, or unity in diversity, and proves indirectly that this art has
a special character of syncretism.
This study does not claim to describe the whole field of Sudanese plastic
art with its various ramifications and to follow its flourishing step by
step.
However, all those movements should remain free from the corrupting
influence of Western schools and express instead their own qualities- which
is what Sudanese art is trying to achieve in spite of the varied approaches
that artists adopt.
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Icônes
et Iconographie
(lire "Les Icônes"
de Maria Donadeo, Médiaspaul et Editions Paulines) Par Sami Khoury.
On dit que les icônes sont des "fenêtres
sur l'éternité". A ce titre elles ont vocation d'orienter
notre regard vers l'au-delà, de nous faire voir "ce que l'oeil
n'a pas vu, l'oreille n'a pas entendu, ce qui n'est pas monté au
coeur de l'homme". (1 Cor 2:9, voir aussi Es.64:3) Selon la définition
si judicieusement énoncée par le pape Paul VI, le 7 mai 1964,
l'iconographie c'est l'art de "transvaser le monde invisible dans
des formules accessibles et intelligentes". Ajoutons à cela
qu'elle est aussi la présentation des dogmes sous une forme visible.
Les origines
Sans prétendre préciser à
quelle date de l'histoire remonte la première icône, il reste
cependant utile de souligner que l'icône - dans la perception et
la tradition de l'Eglise byzantine - transmet de génération
en génération, selon des canons stricts, l'image d'un prototype,
la figure terrestre de Celui qui "est l'image du Dieu invisible"
(Col 1:15) afin que "nous tous, contemplant à visage dévoilé
la gloire du Seigneur, nous soyons transfigurés en cette même
image". (2 Cor 3:18) Rappelons encore à ce sujet ce que Saint
Jean Damascène a écrit dans son "Premier Traité
pour la défense des saintes icônes": "Quand tu verras
Celui qui n'a pas de corps devenir homme à cause de toi, alors tu
pourras représenter son aspect humain. Puisque l'Invisible est devenu
visible en prenant chair, tu peux exécuter l'image de Celui qu'on
a vu". On peut ainsi dire que - dans le sens le plus large du terme
-le visage du Christ devenu homme est la première icône. L'Incarnation
est donc l'origine de l'iconographie. Le prototype dont l'icône transmet
l'image est donc le visage du Christ. Vient ensuite l'image "achéropoiète"
qui veut dire non faite de main d'homme, connue sous le nom de " Mandylion",
relique très vénérée plus tard à Constantinople.
(Des études très sérieuses sont actuellement en cours
pour prouver que le Suaire de Turin est l'authentique Mandylion.) D'un
autre côté, une tradition qui remonte très loin affirme
que Saint Luc l'évangéliste est l'auteur d'au moins trois
icônes bien connues. Admis dans l'intimité de la Vierge Marie,
il aurait peint la "Hodighitria" (La Voie) qui représente
la Vierge avec l'Enfant Jésus assis sur son bras gauche et de l'autre
Elle le désigne comme étant la "Voie". Une autre
icône de la Vierge de la Tendresse qui représente les visages
de la Mère et de son Enfant affectueusement collés l'un contre
l'autre. Une troisième, l'icône de l'Intercession. Après
Arius et son hérésie qui a fortement ébranlé
la jeune Eglise encore à ses débuts, il fut décidé
que chaque icône, pour être authentique, doit porter un nom
pour l'identifier par rapport au prototype divin. Ainsi, l'icône
du Seigneur porte les lettres: IC, XC ( Iyssous Christos ). L'inscription
est faite dans une langue liturgique byzatine: grec, slave, arabe, etc.
Si nous savons qu'Arius a vécu vers 256-336, on peut affirmer que
les icônes telles que nous les connaissons actuellement datent au
moins de cette époque. Mais les empereurs byzantins iconoclastes
au VIIIe et au IXe siècle ont saccagé et brûlé
un nombre incalculable d'icôns détruisant par le fait même
les plus vieilles.
Techniques
Il faut de l'expérience et du talent pour
préparer le bois et réaliser l'oeuvre. D'une épaisseur
de 1.5 à 2cm, le bois doit être bien sec et résistant.
Cette planche est enduite de colle forte liquide qui pénètre
le bois; on fixe dessus une toile fine et propre. Avec un mélange
de colle et de poudre de pierre blanche, on enduit la plaque à plusieurs
reprises. A chaque fois on laisse bien sécher. On polit patiemment
au papier de sable pour obtenir une surface bien lisse et dure. On dessine
dessus l'image qu'on a conçue à l'aide de modèles
anciens et de lectures appropriées. Les détails sont laissés
à l'inspiration personnelle. Puis vient la dorure, un procédé
long et patient qui exige beaucoup de talent et d'expérience. La
dorure c'est la lumière divine. Les nimbes des icônes ne sont
pas de simples auréoles comme sur les images occidentales. C'est
la lumière divine dans laquelle baigne la représentation.
Après la dorure on procède à "l'ouverture"
de l'icône. Le dessin est recouvert de jaune d'oeuf, puis de teintes
uniformes laissant à plus tard le visage, les mains et les pieds.
On mélange la poudre colorante avec de l'eau, du jaune d'oeuf et
du vinaigre. La peinture est étendue en couches minces et uniformes.
Les matériaux utilisés sont pris dans la nature : bois, eau,
argile, oeuf, terre de couleur. Eléments simples pour louer le Seigneur.
Couche après couche, le peintre joue avec les tons d'une seule ou
de deux couleurs, allant du foncé au clair lumineux, ou d'une couleur
froide (bleue, vert,...) éclairée avec une teinte chaude
( rouge, jaune, etc.) La peinture de la chair visible ( visage, mains,
pieds ) est le travail le plus important. L'expression du visage ( yeux,
sourcils, lèvres ) exige une très grande habileté
et beaucoup de talent. Il faut cependant se rappeler qu'il ne s'agit pas
de reproduire la nature, mais de la transfigurer par une spiritualité
intérieure suivant les canons antiques. Chaque fois on laisse les
couleurs sécher pendant quelques mois tout en les préservant
de la poussière. Si tous les procédés sont bien respectés,
l'icône conservera l'éclat des couleurs pendant des siècles.
Il n'existe ni clair-obscur ni ombres pour donner du relief à l'icône,
mais on suit la méthode de l'éclaircissement progressif en
ajoutant des traits de pinceaux toujours plus clairs en partant d'une base
plus sombre.
L'iconographe
(Le rituel qui suit est inspiré
du "Guide de la peinture" de Denis de Furmai)
Celui qui se sent la vocation de peindre des icônes
doit beaucoup prier, étudier l'art pictural, s'exercer seul à
dessiner librement, même sans se conformer aux règles traditionnelles
(canons). Une fois qu'il aura maîtrisé cet art, le prêtre
le bénit et le consacrera iconographe selon le rituel suivant: On
commence par la prière "Roi céleste..." adressée
au Saint Esprit afin d'inspirer le postulant et de le purifier de toute
sensualité, puis on récite le Magnificat de la Mère
de Dieu selon l'Evangile de Saint Luc (1:46-55). On conclut par les tropaires
de la Transfiguration "Métémorphothis endo ori..."
et "Epi tou orous métémorphotis...". Ensuite le
prêtre fera le signe de la croix sur la tête du futur iconographe
en priant: "Seigneur Jésus-Christ notre Dieu, qui existe d'une
manière indescriptible dans la nature divine, illumine l'âme,
le coeur et l'intelligence de ton serviteur et dirige ses mains pour peindre
l'image de... (le nom de l'image à peindre), par l'intercession
de ta Mère Immaculée, du saint apôtre et évangiliste
Luc et de tous Tes saints, Amen." L'iconographe reste désormais
en contact avec l'Eglise qui l'orientera dans son travail selon la sainte
Tradition. Autrefois, l'iconographe était un moine rompu à
la vie spirituelle par la prière, le silence, l'ascèse et
la décence des yeux et par l'obéissance. L'artiste, puisqu'on
peut l'appeler ainsi, ne cessait de prier et de méditer le sujet
de son icône jusqu'à la fin de son travail. Il doit être
humble et doux, et observer la chasteté corporelle et spirituelle.
Même dans cet état d'âme et dans ces conditions de travail,
il n'y a pas deux icônes authentiques qui soient identiques. Chaque
artiste laisse son empreinte personnelle. Il serait utile de rappeler ici
la prière que doit réciter chaque peintre avant de se mettre
au travail: "Toi, Maître divin de tout ce qui existe, éclaire
et dirige l'âme, le coeur et l'esprit de ton serviteur; conduis ses
mains afin qu'il puisse représenter dignement ton image, celle de
ta sainte Mère et celle de tous les saints, pour la gloire, la joie
et l'embellissement de ta sainte Eglise." Comment lire une icône
Les couleurs rouge, pourpre, jaune sont le symbole
de la divinité. Vert et bleu, tout ce qui est terrestre. Le Christ
est représenté avec une tunique pourpre (la divinité
intrinsèque) et un manteau bleu (l'humanité qu'il a assumée).
La Mère de Dieu: robe bleue (créature humaine) avec manteau
pourpre (son extraordinaire proximité du divin). Les yeux sont parfois
agrandis avec un regard fixé sur l'au-delà; le front large
et haut souligne la pensée contemplative. Les lignes perspectives
se rencontrent souvent en un point à l'avant. La perspective est
inversée et l'espace peu profond. L'architecture néglige
la roportionnalité:portes, fenêtres, dimensions, rien que
symboliques. De même, les formes animales et végétales
quand elles existent. La ligne de force va de l'intérieur de l'icône
vers le spectateur. L'immobilité des figures donne l'impression
que toute l'ardeur du fidèle peut se projeter sur l'image selon
sa ferveur et sa foi. "L'icône témoigne du monde de l'au-delà;
elle ne démontre pas, elle montre." (Serge Boulgakov) Les églises
byzantines sont riches en icônes à la grande satisfaction
des croyants qui les vénèrent comme étant l'expression
authentique de leur prototype. Les croyants présents dans une église
pleine d'icônes sont "des hôtes à un banquet où
les saints occupent la place d'honneur" (Nicolas Zernov). Toute l'Eglise
se trouve alors réunie, l'Eglise visible et l'Eglise invisible.
"Si le chant purifie l'ouïe, l'icône purifie la vue."
Pour conclure cet aperçu sur les icônes, nous citons cet énoncé
du VIIe Concile oecuménique de Nicée (787) ( l'Eglise était
encore unie dans ses deux parties d'Orient et d'Occident. C'est le dernier
concile oecuménique de l'Eglise unie. Le mot catholique dans le
texte signifie universelle, n'ayant aucun rapport avec Eglise orthodoxe
et Eglise catholique d'aujourd'hui): "Cet art (l'iconographie) n'a
pas été inventé par les artistes. Au contraire, c'est
une institution approuvée par l'Eglise catholique. Seul le côté
artistique de l'oeuvre appartient à l'artiste, mais son institution
dépend d'une manière évidente des saints Pères
et leur appartient."
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Contribution
To Postcolonial Discourse.
Anna Seif
The postcolonial debate occupies a place on the high ground of contemporary
cultural theory. Once regarded as a radical critical movement , it has
now been incorporated into the Western academy. This appropriation has
been argued to be one of the fundamental problems of postcolonialism ability
to sustain a valid oppositional co-ordinate, indeed the mere fact of its
conception in the Western metropole has, in the eyes of some critics undermined
its combatative legitimacy. Nevertheless, while acknowledging this, it
would be true to say that it has provided a forum for those intellectuals
whose political conscience has driven them to confront the the cultural
dilemmas of the damage wrought by the Western colonialist project and the
continuing alienating and displacing thrust of neo-colonialism as embodied
in the globalization of the capitalist mode of production. This preserves
it as valuable vehicle for dissenting polemics and it is hoped for subversive
operations within dominant hegemonic modes.
Within the parameters of this essay I wish to explore the significance
of the work of Homi Bhabha in the contemporary postcolonial debate. To
achieve this it will be necessary initially to attempt to outline some
of the fundemental issues and problems that are prominent within the field
currently such as: class, taking on board the very pertinent arguments
dealing with transnational capitalism; the importance of the consideration
of gender; and postcolonial theory's compatibility with and departures
from the deliberations of postmodernism. This, I hope, will enable me to
locate Homi Bhabha's particular methodology which utilizes psychoanalytical
and postsructualist strategies within this burgeoning field of academic
interest.
After this general overview the work of Bhabha will be dealt with in
some detail , in particular, I will attempt to engage in his concept of
hybridity and explore this distinctive concept of Bhabha's and consider
its usefulness. As a notion it will be considered in the polemical sphere
where postcolonialism consists of ontologies in common with postmodernism.
Initially Bhabha's formulation of 'time-lag' will be examined before going
on to his more central eddicts. To enable a broader analysis, however,
I hope to consider critiques of Bhabha as proffered specifically in the
work of Robert Young but also in the broader arguments put forward by Arif
Dirlik, Banita Parry. I hope to interrogate the usefulness of hybridity
as a concept and consider its strategic capacities and beg the question
that it may be privileging only one type of a particularly glamorous casualty
of colonial discourse. Thus Bhabha's specific contribution to postcolonial
theory will undergo examination and I hope a pertinent assessment made.
The liberatory dynamic that propelled the urgent debates in postcolonial
theory has become weighed down and slowed by many doubts and uncertainties.
What were regarded as the curses of Caliban answering back to post-Enlightenment
liberal humanist double standards in colonial discourse have undergone
self-reflexive interrogation themselves. The bravado and poise articulated
in the work of Edward Said has been deflated by doubts about the possibility
of securing oppositionality where the binary postcolonial allegory cannot
help but contaminate emancipatory narratives. Young's critique of Edward
Said's book Orientalism, which in the opinion of many, even his most ardent
critics inaugurated colonial discourse theory, problematizes his methodology,
accusing him of repeating the very structures he is trying to expose. This
is particularly true in Young's opinion of Said's attempt to map the binary
power structures of colonial discourse which ultimately only serves to
reinforce not re-inscribe the imaginary geography of East and West. It
is precisely this that Homi Bhabha identifies as a closed circuit stifling
the possibility of negotiatory tactics. He asks, "Must we always polarize
in order to polemicize?...Can the aim of freedom of knowledge be the simple
inversion of the relation of oppressor and oppressed, centre and periphery...?"
(Bhabha 1994 p.19). Bhabha takes this question as his point of departure
for his own work on the possibility of a third space beyond binaries which
will be dealt with in the next section of this essay.
The problem of constructing a binary equation is, then, that the difficulties
inherent of juxtasoposing nationalist to colonialist discourse has to be
dealt with.This encompasses the dilemma that retrieving or re-inscribing
a native narrative in the form of a nationalist movement can once more
be seen as the native culture adopting the Eurocentric concept of the nation
state. The formula becomes more complex when essentialism is substituted
for nationalism. The pitfalls encountered in positions such as that of
Ngugi Wa Thiong'o and Senghor before him,where the craving for lost origins
and purity can never ultimately be satisfied. There have of course developed
recuperative arguments that accommodate the need for essentialist positions
more proliferate in issues of identity for migrant diasporas, especially
the black diaspora. bell hooks talks in terms of enhancing black resistance
and black critical consciousness in terms of "cultivating habits of
being " ( hooks in Williams 1993 p.427) and that to think in terms
of "black experience" with the unifying factors of exile and
struggle rather than in terms of " black essence." (Ibid).
In a very different way Spivak's idea of strategic essentialism refines
the essentialist thesis and allows it a more prominent role in the contemporary
postcolonial debate. Spivak's adoption of the critiques of feminism, Marxism
and deconsruction has provided some very useful tactics to "undermine
the authenticity of Europe's storylines" ( Spivak in Sprinker 1992
p.36 ). Particularly her re-presentation of the female subaltern has highlighted
the position of those "doubly in shadow" who exist under the
patriarchal systems of dominance aswell as under colonial or neo-colonial
oppression. Spivak's supposition of the silent subaltern has been criticised
however for assigning "an absolute power to the hegemonic discourse
in constituting and disarticulating" the native as female. ( Parry
1987, 9:1-2 p.34). Mohanty also criticises Spivaks tendency which she shares
with Western feminists in constructing a monolithic Third World woman.
Nevertheless Spivak's work, along with other critics who are engaged in
issues of gender in postcolonialism, is a very important part of the debate
if only because of the continuing exploitation of women in postcolonial
regions. Ann McClintock reminds us that women do two thirds of the world's
work and receive ten percent of the world's income and own a mere one percent
of the world's property. There is also important work being done on the
links between the colonial project and itlty. Postcolonial theory and gender
concerns is a growing area of research.
One of the most robust critiques, however, within, and vying for prominence
with, postcolonial theory must be the various forms of Marxist agendas.
Spivak's reworking of Marxist critique may seem somewhat ambivalent and
over complex whereas a critic like Aijaz Ahmad is much more direct and
uneqivocal. To return to the problematic colonialist/nationalist dichotomy,
Ahmad has no doubts about the need for a confrontational resistance. He
protests, " I refuse to accept that nationalism is the determinate,
dialectical opposite of imperialism" and sees as indispensable "the
necessity of progressive and revolutionary kinds of nationalism" (Ahmad
1992 p.11). Ahmad was also one of the first to criticise Said for his lack
of acknowledgement of the valuable contribution made by Marxist critics
in the non-West, in critiquing colonial discourse and the Marxist inspiration
accorded to postcolonial critique . Also Ahmad raises the important issue
of the prestigious position of the metropolitan intellectual in postcolonial
criticism. Ahmad's views are endorsed by the work of Arif Dirlik and develops
link between the emergence of the metropolitan postcolonial intellectual
and the First world origins of the term postcolonial. He considers it crucial
to "put the horse in front of the cart" ( Dirlick 1994 20 [winter]
p.330) so to speak, to examine the complicity between postcolonialism and
Western capitalist hegemony, fearing that the unexamined totality of global
capitalism has been inadvertently been allowed to slip in "through
the back door". Dirlik's critique is very relevant to an examination
of Bhabha's notions of a third space and hybridity which will be explored
later. It should be acknowledge that Marxist models of transnational or
global capitalism formulate the most serious alternative critique to many
of the tracts in contemporary postcolonial theories if they are not already
admited within the dynamics of the debate.
Such arguments as Ahmad's and Dirlik's underline the many difficulties
of defining the term and the parameters of postcolonial theory. Mishra
and Hodge see the term and the theory rife with contradictions and polemical
difficulties. They identify the issue of the settler colonies and ask in
what ways they can legitimately gain admission into the debate. They ask
whether postcolonial texts are only considered as such if they are anglophone
and if so, what are the implications of this, if Ngugi's edict that adopting
the language of the coloniser creates a form of spiritual subjugation,
and if not how is postcolonial writing to be identified. Mishra and Hodge
also question how far the adoption of the genre of the novel, a genre of
the master can be seen as complicituous when it has supplanted native oral
literatures. Ann McClintock also finds difficulties with the term postcolonial
. She especially highlights the fact that colonialism is still alive and
well in some parts of the world and furthermore neo-colonialism or imperialism
in the form of global capitalism is all powerful. Does postcolonialism
mean business as usual ask Mishra and Hodge who also wonder how complicit
writers like Salman Rushdie and whether in political terms he is ultimately
postmodern rather than postcolonial. This leads on to the final part of
this first section in which I have tried to map some of the prominent concerns
and difficulties with the postcolonial theoretical forum. One of the growing
areas of enquiry is the ways in which postcolonial theory overlaps, joins
and contrasts with postmodernism. And it is no accident that it is within
these interstices that the particular work of Homi Bhabha is located.
There are concepts originating in postmodern discourse that are totally
at odds with some of the central precepts of postcolonialism. One of these
is Lyotard's pronouncements that the postmodern age is marked by the deconstruction
of the grand narratives. This deeply problematizes the contemporary narrative
of liberation, central to postcolonial assertiveness. Also the question
of agency implicit in many postcolonial models is disregarded in the postmodern.
Linda Hutcheon tries very hard to identify those effects in the postmodern
which facilitate postcolonial re-inscription. she concedes that "
[w]hile the postmodern has no effective theory of agency enables a move
into political 'action', it does work to turn its inevitable ideological
grounding into a site of de-naturalizing critique" . ( Hutcheon 1989
p.3). She goes on to express the useful idea that the postmodern deconstructs
" politically un-innocent things- like the expectation of shared meaning...and
it does so within a dynamic social context that acknowledges the inevitability
of the existence of power relations in any social relations" ( Ibid
p.8).
This kind of thought can of course be very strategically productive
in postcolonial polemics especially at it relates to the central focus
of interrogation in this forum, that of representation. Hutcheon acknowledges
this key link whereby the dominant narratives often ignore " the 'marginalized'
challenges (aesthetic and political ) of the 'ex-centric'..those relegated
to the fringes of the dominant culture-the women, blacks, gays, native
peoples, and others who have made us aware of the politics of all -not
just-postmodern representations".( Ibid p.17). Yet Hutcheon does perceive
the problem ,as others have done, that the elimination of the postmodern
Subject is a luxury that those occupying the privileged place within the
centre can afford while those on the periphery designated as Other, still
have to assert their Self as Subject.
Postcolonial critics who themselves speak from an ex-centric site are
hostile to what they see as the appropriation of the postcolonial by postmodernism,
regarding it as "neo-universalist, imperial discourse" ( Hutcheon
in Adam and Tiffin 1991 p.170). Wole Soyinka's contemptuously describes
postmodernist self-reflexivity as " their social neorosis" (the
West's), ( Adam and Tiffin p.xiv). And Aijaz Ahmad derides the Jamesonian
imagery of culture where " [o]ne did not have to belong, one could
simply float, effortlessly, through a supermarket of packaged and commodified
cultures ." ( Ahmad 1992 p. 128).
All such admonishments must be taken seriously when a exploration of
the work Homi Bhabha is attempted. As has already been mentioned, his work
can be characterised by its empathy with the postmodernist interpretation
of the postcolonial condition. More specifically his postcolonial polemics
occupy the interface between poststructualist and psychoanalytical critiques,
influenced theoretically by the work of Lacan, as much as 'poetically'
by the earnest revolutionary will of Fanon. Within the forum of postcolonial
theoretical criticism, if Bhabha's most distinctive contribution to it,
were to be identified it would be his concept of hybridity as a product
of aswell as subversive impact on the colonising project. This concept
is formulated by various interrogations of Bhabha, including his thesis
on stereotyping, on mimicry and the search for a site of articulation in
the liminal zones where knowledges meet. What characterises his whole project
is his dissoltion of the fixity in all formulations of colonial discourse.
He focuses on the potency and the slippageof interruptive dynamics. In
an examination of the usefulness of Bhabha's theory, his work will be examined
in the light of the critiques of his work aswell as against the broader
concerns in the postcolonial debate.
Bhabha's theoretical lyrics are sometimes too dense and textured, sometimes
they strike a chord which is singularly forceful.Yet it often seems the
case that Bhabha's polemical positions which are both dramatic and sometimes
dazzling could be used as very effective war paint in the struggle to win
back territory and from which to articulate a different narrative.But he
does not provide any weapons. Is it enough to call your enemy's bluff or
is the postcolonial subject doomed to defeat in Bhabha's type of war? I
hope to answer this question in the final section of this essay.
Before going on to Bhabha's more central concept of hybridity it may
be useful to deal with his particular thesis on periodising in postcolonial
critique. One of the most his most penetrating suppositions is his interrogative,"who
defines the present from which we speak?". ( Bhabha 1994 p.244). This
leads on from his declaration of resistance that "the black man refuses
to occupy the past of which the white man is the future" ( Ibid p.
238). The deconstruction of the myth of modernity and progress as white
has been taken up in more strident and materialist terms by Ann McClintock.
She questions the centering of "global history around the single rubric
of European time" ( McClintock in Williiams 1993 p.293) and examines
the " idea of linear historical 'progress'. She dicusses this in her
wider argument about the use of the term postcolonial and finds it problematic
because "[t]he term confers on colonialism the prestige of history
proper; colonialism is the determining maker of history".(Ibid p.293).
This places non-Western cultures outside European time positioning them
'pre' or 'post' it.
Bhabha attempts to deal with this problem by using his concept of 'time-lag'.
He posits that in the "disjunctive space of modernity" (Bhabha
1994p.238) diverse singularities and temporalities can disavow the myth
of modernity and the 'interuptive time-lag"( Ibid p.240) can "
slow down the linear , progressive time of modernity" ( Ibid p.253),
thus opening up new sites of enunciation where narratives of alterity can
be articulated. Bhabha's concept of time-lag is one of his most alluring.Nevertheless,
the less antagonistic he becomes ,from his deconstructive position, of
European time and the more he attempts to theorise postmodern alternatives,
the calibre of resistance factor diminishes . This is a difficulty I will
return to later where the strategic usefulness of Bhabha's concepts will
be examined.
One of the fundamental points of departure for all Bhabha's often complex
discourses is his interrogation of the quality of 'fixity' in all relations
in colonial discourse. If the validity of colonial static relations is
thrown into doubt then the formulations of power within the total project
become questionable and alot less secure. Bhabha believes,"[a]n important
feature of colonial discourse is its dependence on the concept of 'fixity'
in the ideological construction of otherness."(Ibid p.66). This is
where according to Robert Young, Bhabha avoids the methodological problems
Edward Said's model incurs. By , "refusing to let his terms reify
into static concepts" he eludes " the problem that Said found
so difficult to avoid, namely that the analysis ends up by repeating the
same structures of power and knowledge in relation to its material as colonial
representation itself." ( Young 1990 p.146). Bhabha ,then ,by locating
and identifying the instances of slippage in colonial enunciative formulations
" problematizes both the claim for a single political-ideological
intention of the colonizer, aswell as the straight forwardly instrumentalist
relation of power and knowledge" ( Ibid p.142).
For Bhabha, the exposure of the instability of power relations in the
colonial puts into question the coloniser's absolute control and authority
allowing, therefore, the colonised subject a natural degree of subversive
power. Bhabha develops this polemic from his analysis of the ambivalent
complex description of the process of stereotyping through his evocation
of the dynamics of mimicry to his key concept of the ultimate distabilizing
power of the production of hybridity. Apparently this inherent immune tactic
is all that is needed to jeopardise the whole colonial project. To attempt
to undersand more fully this thesis it will be useful to examine in more
detail the specific concepts within it.
The construction of the stereotype is not formulated by a simplistic
demonization of the colonial or marginal subject. It involves a much more
ambivalent and complex set of relations. It is fuelled by narssisstic desire
of the coloniser that turns into a paranoid aggressivity when the impossible
desire for love are unmet . Abdul JanMohammed explores the stereotype in
more formal terms than Bhabha which it maybe useful to recount to show
how Bhabha's analysis is a quantum leap removed from this allowing native
subversion of it. In JanMohammed's view the denigration of the native permits
" an obssessive, ishtic representation of the native's moral inferiority"
thus allowing "the European to increase by contrast, the store of
his own moral superiority; it allows him to accumulate 'surplus morality'
which is further invested in the denigration of the native in a self-sustaining
cycle." ( JanMohammed in Gates 1986 p.103).
What Bhabha locates is the a slippage in this process that results
in the transgression of the coloniser's " own frame of reference".
( Bhabha 1994 p.42). This is because in the construction of the stereotype
the native is at once other and yet an entirely knowable object. There
are also contradictions inherent in the same instant of representation.
The colonised subject is delineated simultaneously as the 'noble savage'
and 'savage savage' thus decontructing the rationale of the coloniser.
What however formulates the process of stereotyping as a fundamentally
'ambivalent text'(Ibid p.82) is the fact that although what makes the representation
already known and apparent to the colonising subject also has to be endlessly
repeated , "[a]s a form of splitting and multiple belief, the stereotype
requires, for its successful signification , a continual and repetitive
chain of other stereotypes. The process by which the metaphoric 'masking'
is inscribed in a lack which must be concealed gives the stereotype both
its fixity and its phantasmatic quality." ( Ibid p.77) . This is what
destablizes the colonial representation and so its logic.
Bhabha employs the same destabilizing tactics in his analysis of what
he calls mimicry. This is a process which would take place in what JanMohammed
would describe as the second phase of the colonial project which would
begin with its architecture of ideological constraints at all levels, establishing
hegemonic containment.Stereotyping would begin in the first phase of violent
suppression and conquest, although continue into the second. At this juncture
the colonial subject is behoven to learn the language, imbibe the value
system, religious and social of the colonising power and attempt to imitate
their masters in every respect-to wear the 'white mask'. This course of
action is so readily followed by the colonised subject because it is seen
as his only line of defence in the face of the onslaught on his culture
and the shattering of his world. Bhabha employs Lacan's metaphor of camouflage
to describe mimicry as in act of warfare.
Although the colonialist approves of this emulation and seeks to encourage
it to enable greater control of the native and total the destruction of
his indigenous value system as exemplified in the Maucaulay Minute he ultimately
cannot contain it. In fact it also destabilizes his logic. This is because
the metamorphosis of the native can never be complete. He is "almost
the same but not quite". (Ibid p.86). The untranslatable part which
preserves the Other's difference disrupts "the authority of colonial
discourse"( Ibid p.86). So for Bhabha "mimicry must continually
produce its slippage, its excess, its difference" and is thus "the
sign of double articulation" (Ibid). The colonising subject is compromised
when confronted with this imperfect copy , disorientated by the apparent
closeness and simultaneous distance of "his dark reflection, the shadow
of colonised man".(Ibid p.45). In his analysis of the stereotype and
the act of mimicry Bhabha prepares the ground for his key concept of hybridity
which as has already been mentioned has been his most significant polemical
contribution to postcolonial critical theory. Hybridity which according
to Bhabha is "the sign of productivity of colonial power"(Ibid
p.112) is the result of the misappropriation of the signs of colonial discourse
and "where meanings and values are misread' (Ibidp.34). Thus hybridity
is defined by Bhabha as "that which reverses the effects of colonialist
disavowal, so that other 'denied' knowledges enter upon the dominant discourse
and estrange the basis of its authority". (Bhabha in Young 1990 p.148).
Bhabha is also at pains to emphasise that hybridity is not defined as a
third term in the coloniser/colonised binary, nor in terms of some kind
of cultural relativism or pluralism. It is a much more potent embodiment
of displaced ,a resistant cultural difference which can split the dominant
discourse "along the axis of power" (Bhabha 1994 p.113) and moreover
"breaks down the symmetry and duality of self/other...inside/outside"(Ibid
116). Bhabha's construction of the process and condition of hybridisation
enables his analysis to truly go beyond colonial discourse and impact upon
postcolonial theory with coordinates such as 'outside/inside, centre/periphery'.
It is here, also, that the other is not only the colonised subject but
also the migrant in multiple diasporas. The migrant ,for Bhabha is almost
a romantic figure- hybridity personified, a keeper of 'other knowledges',
a changling representing, " that ambivalent 'turn' of the discriminated
subject into the terrifying, exorbitant object of paranoid classification"
.(Ibid 113). Thus the migrant like Bhabha himself stands " on the
shifting margins of cultural displacement" (Ibid p. 21). This 'newness'
embodied in the figure of the migrant embodying the force of hybridity
is what will open up new sites of articulation .
This poignant image of the migrant, the hybrid, captures for me what
is so appealing about Bhabha's vision but also what is so ultimately questionable
about it. The portrait of the postcolonial migrant of postmodernity possessing
a "restless and revisionary energy" which will enable the transformation
of "the present into an expanded and ex-centric site of experience
and empowerment"(Ibid 4) , glamorous as it might seem does not ultimately
convince. Although I would instinctively empathise with such a position,
I am forced to ask if Bhabha does not unduly privilege it. Why must it
be that only "migrant knowledge of the world is needed" ( Ibid
214) and that "the truest eye may now belong to the migrant's double
vision" ( Ibid 5). As some critics have posited the project of colonialism
has transformed the colonising self, the Eurocentric Self also, although
he undoubtedly still holds the superior position. Furthermore Bhabha's
vision can not be defended because it works only in the discursive field
of psychoanalysis and deconstruction. The socio-historical base he detaches
from the useful concepts before he re-works them , such as those he takes
from Fanon and even Fredric Jameson make for handsome lyrics of liberation
but lack the material base.
Edward Said developing his ideas beyond those posited in Orientalism
does adopt this image of hybrid as a useful one but he articulates it in
more concrete terms: " we are mixed in with one another in ways that
most national systems of education have not dreamed of. To match knowledge
in the arts and sciences with these integrative realities is, I believe,
the intellectual and cultural challenge of the moment". ( Said 1995
p.401). One has to ask in the case of Bhabha can the exposure of slippage
as destablizer of colonial and Eurocentric practices be similiarly potent
in the destablizing of material, institutional power relations that uphold
such a discourse. Banita Parry asks what the politics of dissolving the
boundaries are. This of course leads to a search for the historical and
material base in Bhabha's polemics. The fact that his project is in another
sphere of reference should not allow him to neglect the very real power
relations t xisted in colonial era and the neo-colonialist global relations
of power to exist now.
In a much more vulnerable spot, within the parameters of Bhabha's own
discourse , where he acknowledges the inspirational energy of Fanon, he
also 'obscures Fanon's paradigm of the colonial condition as one of implacable
enimity between native and invader" ( Parry 1987 9:1-2 p.32). This
criticism is echoed by JanMohammed accusing Bhabha of neglecting the "profound
conflict " represented in "Fanon's Manichean struggle" (
JanMohammed in Gates 1987p.77). Whereas the metropolitan migrant's position
is elevated in Bhabha's vision it can lead to a precarious position for
the anti-imperialist whose texts are downgraded according to Banita Parry.
She also posits that as such it has " obliterated the role of the
native as historical subject and combatant, possessor of an-other knowledge
and producer of alternative traditions "( in contrast to Bhabha's
'new' hybrid ones) (Parry 9:1-2 1987). It may be relevant to ask here where
does the subaltern, not just in Spivak's sense, but in Cabral's , figure
in Bhabha's formulation. Those classes beyond the metropole where colonial
hegemony does not extend who may suffer only the severe *** economic consequences
of the colonial project. Are they not similarly positioned as subaltern
to Bhabha's hybrid or migrant as they were/are to the colonial or Eurocentric
self.? Robert Young points out some methodological concerns in Bhabha's
writing which need to be mentioned before the assessment of his work is
broadened out to more general concerns within the postcolonial forum. The
absence of the " question of a gendered colonial subject" ( Young
1990 p. 154) in Bhabha's work prompts him to posit, "while the structures
of desire are central both to Fanon and to Bhabha's exposition of his psychoanalytic
model....,when it comes to the structures of colonial discourse as such
as the question of and difference is nowhere apparent in Bhabha's texts."
(Ibid). Also Young questions the idea of hybridity when it assumes t he
pre-existence of pure origins.
It is important to return finally to the lack of historicity in Bhabha's
entire enterprise. This belies his postmodern leanings where the authenticity
of all grand narratives are questioned including historical ones. Nowhere
does Bhabha acknowledge the possibility of crucial material historical
processes in his vision of the new. There is no doubt he does find Jameson's
postmodern interpolations of late capitalist logic useful but he finally
parts with them when Jameson sees the uniting factor of class as paramount.
For Bhabha race or ethnic culture are more important. Nevertheless it may
do well to be reminded that Aijaz Ahmad also takes issue with Jameson on
a related subject of his idea of Third World Literature Arif Dirlik firmly
places Bhabha amongst those postcolonial metropolitan intellectuals who
repudiate the foundational histography of capitalism. It is fair to say
that Dirlik takes issue with much of the postcolonial project but in his
view Bhabha would occupy one of the most precarious positions within it.
Dirlik sees that "[t]he complicity of postcolonial in hegemony lies
in postcolonialism's diversion of attention from contemporary problems
of social , political , and cultural domination, and in it's obfuscation
of its own relationship to what is but a condition of its emergence, that
is , to global capitalism that, however fragmented in appearance, serves
as the structuring principle of global relations."( Dirlik 1994 20
p.331). Dirlik believes that many postcolonial critics fail to identify
the institutional and ideological structures that resolve the contradictions
in concepts such as Bhabha's hybridity . Such radical positions are ,when
all is said and done, incorporated into the academy. Dirlik cannot allow
the "denial of capitalism's foundational status " (Ibid 346)
especially as the ascendancy of Post-Enlightenment narratives and the Eurocentric
vision would not exist without capitalism. In this sense although he is
not alone in the postcolonial forum, is deeply implicated for his lack
of historicity. For me, what I ultimately find lacking in Bhabha's project
is a workable strategy. What is disturbing is that transgressions against
the dominant discourse are made by the colonised and the hybrid subjects
despite themselves in the return gaze, the incomplete metamorphosis, the
act of hybridisation. There is no willed strategic resistance on the part
of the other. But if this happens in the natural order of things why has
not the revisionary will prevented the continued oppression and suppresson
that still is inflicted on marginalized diasporas placed in the 'privileged'
metropole, not to speak of those far flung non-Western sites where atrocities,
large or small are commited and only sometimes make the news. How can we
be satisfied to stand on the shifting boundaries of cultural displacement....Must
we not engage in the debate with a committed, moral ,intellectual energy
to disavow all and every transgression against all those whose representation
leaves them bereft of all rights and opportunities. Alth ough Bhabha's
vision can inspire us to search for the new knowledges, I would validate
a more active and confrontational resistance than his.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Bhabha, H,K (1994) The Location of Culture Routledge,
London and New York. Young, R (1990)
White Mythologies: Writing, History and the West Routledge,
London. Williams, P and Chrisman, L [ed] (1993)
Colonial Discourse and Post-colonial Theory: A Reader
Harvester and Wheatsheaf , Cambridge. Said, E, W, (1993)
Culture and Imperialism Vintage, Reading. Sprinker,
M, (1992)
Edward Said: A Critical Reader Blackwell, Oxford.
Parry, B, (1987)
Problems in Current Theories of Colonial Discourse
Oxford Literary Review, 9: 1-2. Dirlik, A, ( Winter 1994)
The Postcolonial Aura: Third World Criticism in the
Age of Global Capitalism Critical Inquiry 20. Hutcheon, L, (1989)
The Politics of Postmodernism Routledge, London. Gates,
H, L, Jr, (1986 ) Race, Writing and Difference University of Chicago Press,
Chicago.
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