The very structure of the group, then, was not able to comprehend the wide variety of subaltern studies it triggered: Whether practitioners of the discipline decide to continue their efforts individually or whether they prefer to create a new group, the legacy of LASS cannot be ignored by those who believe their work is not just a mere intellectual exercise or a way to be protected from the ills of everyday real- life.
Perhaps the time has come for them to take the banner from our hands and to find some way of changing the terms of the debate Whether one agrees or not with Beverley about the role his generation needs to play in the present I, for one, wish they would stay around and keep contributing to the field's theoretical debates , it is also true that the legacy of LASS needs to be re-actualized by younger scholars.
And when I say younger, I really mean it: I am referring to young assistant professors and graduate students. This would bring fresh air to the space opened by the group. This would also be a celebration of, or a homage to, not only LASS, but also to the Latin American post-occidentalist tradition. As Fernando Coronil aptly puts it: This note celebrates its achievement and the mutable vitality of subaltern studies; it is post- obituary, not an obituary. Long live subaltern studies in the Americas! I am one of those who are willing to help contribute to the after-life of the spirit, or if you prefer, of the inspiration that brought LASS into being.
This special issue is an attempt to discuss the history, the multiple agendas, the limitations and the various legacies of the group. Hopefully, more venues will offer their pages to a renewed and refreshing debate about this seminal group and the theories that came from Latin America in the sixties. However, if you find Watkins's wishes too ambitious, here's what he has to say about it: I, too, sometimes feel that the ending of papers or introductions should take the form of a rather tall order. Long live critical thinking that seeks the liberation of the poor and the oppressed.
And this has to do with a recognition of the limits of critical thinking and the limits of intellectuals. Well, I beg to differ: Let us hope that, if this is true, Carr tells the public where this group operates, what kind of work it publishes and who are its members. Enrique Dussel's Philosophy of Liberation. Lanham, Boulder, New York, Oxford: Rowan and Littlefield, Stepping Stones to Common Ground. Nina Swidler, Kurt E.
Dongoske, Roger Anyon and Alan S. Waltnut Creek, London, New Delhi: U of Minnesota P, Arguments in Cultural Theory. U of Nebraska P, Postcolonial Thought and Historical Difference. Cambridge, Massachusetts and London: The MIT P, Latin American Subaltern Studies Group. The Making of Postcolonial Mexico and Peru. U of California P, Coloniality, Subaltern Knowl- edges and Border Thinking. Literacy, Territoriality and Coloni- zation. U of Michigan P, Enrique Dussel's Phi- losophy of Liberation. Burney and Tom Bailor. Legacies of Pain, Visions of Promise. The Politics of Subaltern Studies.
Peru's Indian peoples and the challenge of Spanish conquest: Hua- manga to U of Wisconsin P, The Materiality of Indigenous Pasts. Views from South 2. Entre la sociedad de control y la comunidad que viene. American Indian Values and Scientific Practice. The Other Side of the Popular. Neoliberalism and Subalternity in Latin America.
Lincoln and Lon- don: Perhaps the impetus behind this set of questions is to make us ponder the commonalities of our efforts as Latin Americanists and to make us realize that, in fact, we belong to one and the same field and share the same genealogies.
The sec- ond group aims at establishing the particularities of the relationship between the South Asian Subaltern Studies Collective and LASS, and points in the direction of a desencuentro between the two groups. The third refers to the organizational structure of LASS, its advantages and disadvan- tages, and wonders if it would have been better to choose a different for- mat—an open rather than a closed structure, a movement rather than a group.
And finally, the fourth set asks for the conditions of possibility of continuing the subaltern studies discussion by other means, with other peo- ple, and under a different format. Naturally, engaging in this dialogue implies, were we to comply with the request of the editor, to discuss the errors committed, speak about the possibilities overlooked, and re-examine the limitations of our collective practice. The nature of LASS and the type of work it did is gathered in the volumes we published.
In this piece I am interested not only in revis- iting the proposal of subalternism as an alternative and counterhegemonic epistemology that for me marked the continuity of the legacy of Marxism by other means, but also in presenting a retrospective situational analysis of the juncture that brought us together, and in reconsidering some of the real structural issues that caused the final demise of the group under that light.
Subaltern, Cultural, and Post-colonial Studies: Their Genealogies Subaltern Studies is in many ways for me the name of a transition. Given the available choices within the field at the time—a Marxism whose limits were already a hindrance in thinking about the social processes inflected by high modernity, and the most festive, triumphant, and market oriented current of Cultural Studies, heavily dependent on deconstruc- tion—I, together with the historical founders of the group, chose the path of Subaltern Studies.
Our recalcitrant faith in the social agency of the poor, in the belief that they were endowed with consciousness and a political will that could serve as a foundation for theory, and the affinity defined as a political sensibility between the members of the collective was our investment, a way of micro-managing the transition from an engaged past to a demobilized present and an uncertain future. This is our first legacy to the field. Guha was our mediator and compass during those disorienting days.
There was no Manichean bent implicit in this conception, no ethical distinction between good and evil, not even the idea of victims and oppressors. There was, on the contrary, the necessity of revising, or rather, constructing, a theory of resistance grounded on the practices, conscious- ness, and will of the poor. Where had we gone wrong in our understanding of the agent of change? We were Marxist, we had read our Marxism, we were aware of the polemics within Marxism. This knowledge notwithstanding, we could not let go of the desire to construct a critical approach to culture from the viewpoint of the subaltern and in solidarity with them.
And agency was the magic word or formula we seemed to encounter in the South Asian collective use of the term subaltern. Agency plus the term subaltern itself seemed to give meaning to cultural criticism and value to a field left empty by the evacuation of Marxist cate- gories.
In the work of the South Asian collective we found the vehicle to perpetuate what could be rescued of a depleted epistemology, and we used Subaltern Studies to make a statement: We were conver- sant with this type of work. The fact that we are always called to make the distinction between Subaltern and Cultural Studies, more than between Subaltern and Postcolonial Studies is proof that the difference between us could not be so easily discerned.
This was a sign not only of the contem- poraneity of our scholarship but also of the sharing of some presuppositions and concerns. After all, we are in the same field, we belong to the same pro- fessional group, and yes, we share our genealogies. All of us, fin de siglo cultural workers in the field of Latin American studies, were of one and the same generation—ten years of difference between us, give or take. As stu- dents, most of us were brought up under the aegis of Marxism, whether of the orthodox or revisionist kind, which was the dominant paradigm during our formative years.
Most of us, at least in our early youth, were politically engaged, some militants in social movements, most of us became public intellectuals who participated in public debates in our respective societies, marched against the war in Vietnam in the U. We were engaged intellectuals, people who took a stand, wrote for the newspapers, and read the same books. Also, we were influenced by the Frankfurt and Birmingham Schools that gained so much notoriety in the works of Cultural Studies—for all of us, ex- or post- Marxists, cultural analysts had been the seedbeds of large polemics on the constitution and role of culture with regards to society, class, and party construction, and yes, important elements in the discussion of ideology and class struggle.
Who is not going to remember the polemic between party intellectuals like George Lukacs and Bertolt Brecht? Who was not learned in the Benjaminian warnings of art in the age of mechanical reproduction and the art of story telling? Who did not know the polemic on class undertaken by Eric Hobsbawm, E. Thompson, and Raymond Williams?
In fact, Guha belongs to that generation of historians who, so the oral history goes, did not give a damn about his or her work. All those bibliographies were recognized by all of us, those bibliographies were our common ground, our true home base. The difference between us at that moment, the difference that was being emphasized and paraded, was our place of enunciation. Where we lived became a determining factor at the juncture of globalization.
This was nothing new because this was also true at the time of the revolution. However, in my view, our posture before the transition, what each of us chose to emphasize, distinguished the two approaches to the field. The transition from liberalism to neo-liberalism was the real part- ing of the waters. In those three years we are referring to , the struggle of the leftists against the military dictatorship ceases to be the hegemonic question in the cultural and artistic Brazilian scene, opening up space to new problems and reflections inspired by the democratization in the country I insist: To the sorrow of those who leave is opposed the emptiness to be inhabited by the acts and words of those who come in my translation.
Some of these scholars repre- sented the cutting edge of the field, and if they were not the vanguard they were the postmodern avant-garde. The greatest rubric of these works was the analysis of mass, elec- tronic, and industrial pop cultures, but looking at these texts with the wis- dom of hindsight, they represent the scholarship of the transition from a world with telos to one without it: All these works responded to the needs of peripheral societies as they adjusted them- selves to the new logic of high modernity or postmodernity.
Looking at the body of work from this perspective, I can understand the reluctance on the part of Latin American scholars to be grouped under the festive rubric of Cultural Studies—a current of thought they associated with the North American academy. These Latin American scholars based in Latin America were serious analysts of the transition to the neo- and the post-. They proposed new and alternative paths for the field of Latin American Studies, reflected on the disciplines that had formed the identities of the former nation-states, iden- tified the new profiles of fragmented, shattered, and dispersed social sub- jects and social movements locally, and discussed the inadequacies of the liberal paradigms circulating in mimicry of civil society.
In this respect our interests converged. They spoke about modernity, modernizing, and mod- ernization: And in their cultural analysis they, like us, made a move to include all forms of culture—not only high but also pop, mass, industrial, and electronic cultures. These themes were also present in the discussion forums established by the national and international commissions on truth and reconciliation. These forums fostered the production of testimonials and changed the notion of historiography, bringing the disciplines of his- tory, anthropology, and sociology closer to the spirit of Subaltern Studies.
In these efforts, their work and ours dovetailed.
In those days, LASS scholars were more invested in revising and insisting on the left than in debating the aporias of liberalism. We were more interested in finding out what had gone wrong—the future possibili- ties for the left, and the nature of radicalism—than in civil society, the new social movements, or the debates on pluralism and democracy. The bottom line was that, at that moment, we saw ourselves as radical scholars and thought Cultural Studies scholars were liberal social democrats.
Yet, back then, all of us were looking for new vocabularies for a sit- uational analysis of culture, an analysis that described a saturated public sphere in which the new forms of opposition had to be re-imagined. It was clear that the opposition had taken new, unedited forms, some of which were going to derive from the performative, the queer, and beyond.
If I am going to pinpoint our intervention in the field, it is its insistence upon the power of negative dialectics and radicalism—not so much governability as ungovernability. In the notion of subalternity, I believe we come closer to the gatherers of testimonials. I am thinking in particular of the works under- taken in Colombia, Jamaica, El Salvador, and Guatemala by historians, journalists, and all kinds of social agencies. Their voices consti- tute what Nancy Fraser calls the subaltern counterpublics.
Living in the hegemonic nation, fully inserted within high modernity, we took electronic and mass culture for granted and insisted upon dwelling in the residual memory of the left. This was one of our major concerns and part of our legacy. Living in the metropolis, is it really that hard to under- stand that gesture? The remnants, the leftovers and shreds of the big defeat were more attractive to us. I personally was much less interested in the cultures of con- sumption than in the great duelo. We were aferrados, we clung to the mem- ories of the past, hopes and memories that were also part of the transition, and if being obstinate is just another name for the virtue of persistence and resiliency then our legacy to the field is precisely that: For that reason alone South Asian Subalternism was a proper vehicle for us.
I am sure they went through the same circle of hope and defeat, of uncritical allegiance and critical distance, of the direct experience of the ris- ing hopes for a better future for the poor and the betrayal of corrupt leaders, hardened dogmas, and local cultural determinations. They had a wealth of knowledge concerning their own local experience that they wanted to revise, unhinge, and untangle. They too were discontented with the liberal national leadership, the ideas of modernization and the development— western style—that the comprador bourgeoisie had displayed for purchase.
We reached the same point in several different parts of the world at differ- ent historical junctures and, to our credit, we recognized our affinities. The difference between localities—who was where when—was also a factor in the constitution of that South Asian Subaltern Studies collective. The relation between Subaltern and Postcolonial Studies was much more organic and fluid at the very beginning. In my view of things, these two approaches were very compatible—the South Asian Subalternists even called themselves postcolonial and as postcolonial scholars they circulated within the First World academies.
In the Latin American version of Post- colonial Studies, there was an explicit validation of ancient Amerindian cultures, a desire to unearth their old epistemological ways of organizing the universe and a desire to validate them. There was also a need to link old indigenous epistemologies to new indigenous struggles and this demanded a systemic analysis of capitalism.
That con- stituted a divide among them. For those interested in ancient indigenous cultures, the epistemes provided therein constituted an alternative to Western reason and an appropriate method for thinking subaltern studies. For given that the great genealogies and the great narratives have been written from above, thinking from below is one of the most difficult endeavors, and therefore an intellectual chal- lenge to deconstruction.
The crucial question was the necessity of understanding globaliza- tion. Was globalization the name for the last readjustment of capitalism? If so, the geopolitics of geoculture brought us together because we could eas- ily plug in familiar notions that had formerly circulated under the Leninist rubric of imperialism and were given a new twist in the neo-version of Empire. In all cases, we were talking about capitalism as a world system, a familiar frame of reference. But what were the repercussions and rearrangements that globalization brought to knowledge production?
For better or for worse, some of us tied the discussion of globalization to University politics and the discussion of Area Studies. Actually, we took it upon ourselves to discern the relation- ships between the local and the global. Here the discussion of localization and the home base of intellectuals held its sway. The question was—and still is—who knows what best?
Which necessities does the new knowledge address? Who does knowledge help and whom does it wreck? Knowledge became a question of hegemony and power. Therefore it became imperative to recognize not only that there was knowledge produced in the periphery but also that this knowledge was worth studying, that it was important locally and globally, and that it ultimately crossed Area Studies. Granted, the struggle over Area Studies was a localized struggle but it was neverthe- less a struggle to set the tendency that would later spread out throughout the world.
We saw ourselves as the periphery of the center whereas our colleagues in Latin America were the center of the periphery. However, these positionalities have never been acknowl- edged. More often than not, there is a conflation of locality and positional- ity and all of us are lumped together within dominance—cosas de gringos.
Ours was a call for a dialogue among and between minority subaltern intel- lectuals that never came to fruition. This can be part of the agenda for the new project, and the idea our legacy to the field. In this new phase of geopolitics and geoculture, there is, once again, the possibility of going back to revise the common ground of Cultural, Postcolonial, and Subaltern Studies, and to understand how the work of social scientists and cultural critics converge in the use of bibliographies and approaches.
This social and cultural confluence is found in other studies that utilize the notion of sub- altern counter spheres, particularly in the new energy of NGO sponsored intellectual work that relies on the archives of the living, productive agents and brings their voices to bear on public discussion. In these studies we find the convergence of Cultural, Subaltern, and Postcolonial Studies approaches, new ways that social and cultural analysts reinsert themselves within the social fabric and feed the discussions of the public sphere.
Through these works subalterns constitute themselves as dialoguing part- ners and active agents within contemporary society. The consciousness of that break generated the new approaches to the field. We felt the need to revisit the old sites and to rework the production of knowledge, the workings of culture, and the agency of people.
To paraphrase him, how must we understand the world now that we are neither apocalyptic nor integrated? It was his work that we read and discussed and it was him that we wanted to meet and invite to one of our gatherings. Patricia Seed organized a special meeting with him at Rice for us. But in that article he also explained that the genesis of their project was grounded in the South Asian experience and that they had never entertained aspirations to univer- sality; they did not count on any readership abroad. They were local intel- lectuals dedicated to the study of their local community, their region, South Asia.
Frankly speaking, we do not know much about theirs either. These three pieces remind me of our own analysis of modernism and modernization. I heard there had been two other meetings with them, one in Chicago, organized by Chakravarty, and one in Mexico, organized by Saraub Dube, to which only a couple of us were invited. By the times these events took place, LASS was already in total disarray. Overall, in their individual relationships with us, the members of the South Asian collective were courteous and deferential but never to my knowledge intellectually engaging—the exception is Dube, who works in Mexico.
At Duke they remained mostly to themselves because they were conscious that they were not part of our field discussion but, in private, I know that they thoroughly enjoyed the conference and considered it of high caliber. Thinking seriously about their indifference to our work, I can only interpret it in light of the sharp division between fields and Area Studies— South Asia, Latin America, etc. This division fosters a tradition of igno- rance amongst the regions of the world and favors the mediation of knowl- edge via Europe and Western thought.
This division is also part and parcel of the coloniality of power and part of our discussion of Area Studies. While in general the division between rigidly classified disciplines prohib- its interdisciplinary dialogue, the division between the social and human sciences is especially marked. Historians and literary specialists hardly ever cross-reference each other. Granted, for all appearances, the South Asian collective had nothing, or very little, in the way of a dialogue with us. Hence we chose to relate to each other through the European mediation of Antonio Gramsci. Perhaps the moment was unpropitious.
Perhaps when we came onto the scene, their col- lective work had lost its cohesion and political impetus and the pervading cynicism of the era had dimmed its light. Perhaps the transition also intro- duced an element of distrust that disconcerted them as much as it did us. Perhaps all of us, the most radical flank of the international intelligentsia, were turning into social democrats. Perhaps we were losing our grip and becoming openly conservative. But in their desconocimiento or disavowal of us, I see a negation of themselves and of their own excel- lence and importance. They turned their faces away from the image we pro- vided for them in the mirror of Latin American Subaltern Studies.
Had we all recognized the productivity of a dialogue amongst our- selves, we could have moved from a national and regional form of local- ization to a continental and even global peripheral, one from below. To my knowledge, only Dabashi and Spivak recognized this angle. At Columbia University Guha said he had transcended subalternism and implied that we should do likewise. To settle his scores with Marx, Guha had turned to Hegel and high Indian culture, to the literature of the elite.
It was in response do this new turn that Dabashi ironically drew the dividing line by stating, in a paraphrase of Marx, that he was not a subalternist. This is then a good vantage point from which to consider the future agenda of subalter- nism. The Organizational Structure of the Group Considering the historical juncture of our coming together, the col- lapse of LASS and I almost dare to say of the South Asian collective as well is part of the collapse of the left and its forms of organization.
During our formative years we organized study groups to instruct ourselves and read the material not included in the curricula. Drawing on this model, we came together as a collective and ignored that collective formats were a thing of the past. The idea itself was vitiated and contaminated on all flanks due to the similitude collectivities held with models pertaining to political parties and organizations on the one hand, and the corporate world on the other. That was strike one against us. Strike two was the waning interest in the poor.
Latin America is one of those areas Arrigui calls redundant or obsolete. If that was so, who was going to be interested in the Latin American poor? We had to think hard and fast about that question. The interest in the Gulbenkian Commission Report regarding social sciences and the book on the invention of the Latin American field by Mark T.
Berger is related to this awareness. We were not empresarios, entrepreneurs, or brokers. We were not bureaucrats. We did not want to invest time in organizing the group. We wanted the group to exist de facto, spontaneously. We came together at the annual conference and at the annual conference we decided who was to plan the next one. Had we made a real and genuine effort, we could have worked out bylaws, thought about membership, orga- nized research agendas, and founded a journal.
We did none of that. There were voices proposing a more coherent plan of action as there was sometimes assiduous communication between us via email, but nothing came of it. When subalterns are transformed into theoretical categories, they are given the status of active agents in the production of knowledge. The South Asian collective, and Guha in particular, makes them absolutely pivotal to the structure of imperial historiography and hence of politics.
When he points out the slippery character of subalternity he is referring to the anxi- eties produced in the minds of hegemonic subjects and how it affects their writing and knowledge production. The mere existence of subalterns con- stituted an interruptus that made the entire history of colonialism a failed enterprise in spite of the high rates of capital accumulation.
Industrial and electronic cultures came to bear on this great leap forward of North American universities. Looking at it from this per- spective, the project is even more attractive today. I think that had we worked out a solid organizational structure, and had we had a clear research agenda, that our project could have survived.
In retrospect, there were several ways of constructing affinities in our group. There were the young and the old; those established and those beginning; the European, the Africans, and the Latin Americans, men and women, blacks and non-blacks, gay, straight, and bisexual, but all those signs and discourses were conveniently disregarded.
Differences were in fact never discussed. We ignored the fact that rank and hierarchy of all kinds are part of social relations and that the distinction between elite and subaltern is duplicated in all social structures.
Studying the reaction of young soldiers to the war effort, as well as their interaction . 7 For an analysis of children in Canadian history, see Cynthia Comacchio, . letter to his mother asking that she sign the consent form. .. 58 William Gray, A Sunny Subaltern: Billy's Letters from Flanders (Toronto: McClelland, Goodchild &. of the Canadian Corps through a detailed study of several of its most important figures. consideration for those who lead, shape, and guide them through both war and . memoirs, Adamson remains a popular subject in army leadership analysis. June are noticeably absent from the existing examinations of his life.
Ours was no exception. The effect of all this unfinished business was a climate of distrust and this distrust translated into a form of disrespect amongst the members. This is, I dare say, a very masculine way of approaching group dynamics but what else is new? Mas- culine protocols were coming back into fashion. Our differences, our het- erogeneity, could have been a source of wealth, instead they became a hindrance.
Difference was the big and unresolved question raised at our meeting in Puerto Rico. Rather than confronting difference head on, we spoke about it procedurally, in terms of membership and group structure, mechanically, harried, and pressed. But, one thing is certain, and that was that no one wanted to organize the group on the basis of exclusions because exclusions reeked of party politics and all of us were sick of that. If I am going to sum up our problems, I would say that our academic discussion was harassed by historical, political and academic distrust.
I am sure each one of us felt at a certain moment unwanted. Was distrust a symp- tom of the perception of incompatible research agendas? Did we transfer our political discrepancies to our organizational discrepancies? Nothing was ever spelled out. We tried doing it at our last meeting at Duke. My fondest memories are of that meeting, one of the best I have ever attended, because I could see all our potential displayed.
To this day I lament our demise because, together, we were, simply, a formidable group. For the young we were providing models of academic intervention—not only the- oretical models that too but also energy, ways of organizing, ways of hav- ing an impact. That is another of our legacies to the field. Policy Statements and Forecast for the field: We all abide by it. So, if the purpose is to do Subaltern Studies por la libre, then there is no purpose in questioning that decision. But if what was attractive was the collective nature of the endeavor and some of the questions we raised, then what is needed is to rethink the project, its purposes, and its structure.
First of all, there is a need for a coupure, a clean break. Any attempt to duplicate the past will duplicate the vices of the past. If there is going to be a new collective endeavor—be it a group or a move- ment—writing a new statement of purpose, manifesto, or foundational position statement is a must. Whoever is interested in being part of this new project must contribute to this new dialogue but there must also be leader- ship and initiative. One of the structures that I saw we could have adopted was a mixture of a movement and a group. That is, to have a core group of people inter- ested in carrying out on a rotating basis the bureaucratic functions of the group and in identifying the issues around which research was necessary, and then inviting people to participate in it.
This makes the situation very clear to the profession and gives the collective the structure of a think-tank. The easiest way would be for each scholar to continue his or her own work while engaging with and organizing panels with other scholars working on compatible approaches. To do collective work requires funds, time, energy, and a debate on the institutional character of the project. Without structure there is no project. To pre-empt internal strife, the new stage must rely on trust, the kind of trust that is reflected not only in the open nature of the structure but in the open discussion of difference.
If there is a new collective, the members must know on what basis they are con- structing their affinities; they must define their research issues and approaches, and know well who they can and want to work with. I welcome this project and wish whoever wants to undertake the effort to organize it, good luck. Subaltern Studies in the Americas. Duke UP, ; Convergencia de Tiempos: The Postmodernism Debate in Latin America. A special issue of boundary 2. Marxism and the Interpretation of Culture.
Univer- sity of Illinois Press, Ao luto dos que saem opo-se o vazio a ser povoado pelos atos e palavras dos que estao entrando Raul Antelo et al ed. Cuarto Propio, 11 I am thinking in works like Alfredo Molano. Vivencias de guerrilleras y colaboradoras del FMLN. Grafistaff, ; Laurie Gunst. A Journey through the Jamaican Posse Underworld. The Massacre at El Mozote. Vintage, ; Luz Arce. Planeta, ; Maria Alejandra Merino. Santiago de Chile, AGT, Habermas and the Public Sphere. Essays on Sex and Citizenship. Duke UP, l Beatriz Sarlo.
Escenas de la vida postmoderna. Intelectuales, arte y videocultura en la Argentina. New Mappings in Politics, Philosophy, and Culture. De los medios a las mediaciones. The Modern Language Associa- tion of America: Modernism and Postmodernism in Latin America. The Making and Unmaking of the Third World. Projects for our times and their con- vergence. Open the Social Sciences: Revista de Investigaciones Literarias y Culturales.
If there is no one universal standard for truth, then claims about truth are contextual: In this transaction, the Latin American intellectual is relegated to the status of an object of the- ory as subaltern, postcolonial, calibanesque, etc. But Arturo Arias points out that there are Guatemalan intellectuals of the right who have attacked Stoll precisely as a North American denigrating a Guatemalan national figure. This seems to be the appropriate moment to recall the famous pas- sage in The Philosophy of History where Hegel envisions the future of the United States.
North America will be comparable with Europe only after the immeasurable space which that country presents to its inhabitants shall have been occupied, and its civil society will be pressed back on itself America is therefore the land of the future, where, in the times that lie before us, a world historical significance will reveal itself—perhaps in a conflict between North and South America.
What is more interest- ing for our purposes here, however, is the notion that a conflict between North and South America will be necessary for the United States to attain world historical significance. Today perhaps the opposite could be said: The nature of these questions provides the occasion for me to intro- duce my national allegory.
It is Richard Harding Davis's novel Soldiers of Fortune, which at the time of its publication in became something of a best seller and fed public enthusiasm for American intervention in Cuba. Because of its coincidence with the centennial of the war, it has attracted quite a lot of attention in American studies in the recent past. Sol- diers of Fortune which bears an obvious, albeit unacknowledged, debt to Conrad's Nostromo , is set in the fictional Latin American republic of Olan- cho, recognizably Venezuela where, as it happens, I was born.
The nationalist opposition to Alvarez in the Olanchan senate, led by General Mendoza, objects to the concession, and introduces legislation to obtain a larger share of the mine's production. In a kind of Machiavellian double cross, Clay meets secretly with Mendoza and offers him a huge bribe to block this legislation, which Mendoza accepts. Clay then reneges on the bribe, threatening at the same time to make public Mendoza's acquiescence in his plot.
Mendoza responds by pre- paring a coup d'etat to overthrow Alvarez and nationalize the mines. He puts into circulation the rumor that president Alvarez is a dupe of foreign interests: Clay and Stuart get wind of Mendoza's plans and discover that Burke has smuggled in a shipment of weapons for the plotters.
Clay, who has won the loyalty of the Olanchan mine workers, organizes them into a kind of contra army avant la letre. They locate the smuggled arms and capture them. This precipitates Mendoza's coup, initially successful as Mendoza captures the Presidential Palace and imprisons Alvarez.
A sector of the army, however, remains loyal to Alvarez's vice president, Rojas. They put themselves under the command of Clay, whom they designate, in Bolivaran style, the Liberator of Olancho. Mendoza's coup collapses and he is eventu- ally shot to death in combat.
The United States Marines arrive just in time and Clay directs them to preserve order until Rojas can be installed as the new president of Olancho. Rojas, it goes without saying, pledges to recog- nize the virtues of free trade and protect the security of the Valencia Mining Company. At the beginning of the novel, Clay is engaged to Langham's older daughter Alice. Alice and her younger sister Hope come to visit Olancho on the eve of Mendoza's coup.
Alice is the archetypal North American upper class genteel woman: She seems an ideal match for Clay, who is clearly the man who will inherit the place of her father. In Olancho, however, the two come to regard each other differently. Escaping an ambush by Men- doza's forces, Alice sees Clay working with his hands to try to repair a ship engine.
The experience convinces her that he cannot be the man of her dreams, as he represents an epistemological framework fundamentally at odds with her own. Like the nationalist opposition in the Olanchan senate, her values are anachronistic: In contrast, her younger sister Hope, only eighteen, and not yet come out into society, epitomizes these new forces. It goes without saying that although this territoriality is supra-national, the values that govern its identity remain in some significant sense North American: Let me be clear, because the possibilities for misinterpretation or willful misunderstanding are rife here, that there can be no question that the main enemy of democracy in Latin America has been US hegemony time and again democratically elected regimes have been overthrown with US support or connivance.
I am sen- sitive in particular to the concern with the prestige and power of the North American academy in an era in which Latin American universities and intellectual life are being decimated by neoliberal policies connected in great measure to US hegemony at all levels of the global system, but partic- ularly in Latin America.
Nevertheless, if in fact globalization entails a dis- placement of the authority of Latin American intellectuals, then the resistance to studies is itself symptomatic of the unequal position of Latin American culture, states, economies, and intellectual work in the current world system. Paul de Man memorably described the resistance to theory as itself a kind of theory. This is also a conse- quence of the effects of globalization and the new social movements inside Latin America itself.
But the questions posed by these relations—beginning with the fact that the most important social groups that the concept of the subaltern designates are women and indigenous groups, that is, over half the population of Latin America in terms of the former and, in some Latin American countries, anywhere from a a quarter to a half of the population in terms of the latter— are crucial in rethinking and reformulating the political project of the Latin America left in conditions of globalization.
They see that position as entailing a kind of premature foreclosure based on an anxiety about the loss of identity, rather than an opening out to the future: No es de sorprender entonces que varias novelas coincidan en finales que enfatizan un sentido de cierre mas que de apertura hacia lo nuevo. But, it is currently dominated by a version of the same problem- atic: However, the ques- tion remains: In other words, is a progressive form of Latin American studies still possible? On the other hand, the possibility of solidarity with Latin American intellectuals and with the agendas of Latin American regional and national interests— which are, in the last instance, of course, largely the agendas of the ruling classes of Latin America—precludes the possibility of solidarity with the Latin American subaltern: Does the identification with a Latin American subaltern or popular subject preclude then the possibility of solidarity with Latin American intellectuals?
We should not be in too much of a hurry to say no, of course, it doesn't. We chose the subaltern. To the extent that it was more than an ethical impulse, the possibility of solidarity rested on the recogni- tion of a synergy between the fortunes of the Euro-North American left and the Latin American left, a sense that the fates of both were, for better or worse, connected. I conclude that the time has come for me to distance myself from Latin American studies, a distance that would be marked, as my national allegory suggests, by a reinvestment in my always problematic and always deferred identification with the United States.
But I was persuaded by friends that things could not be as simple as that. The experience of that generation, it goes without saying, was framed by the rise and defeat of a very ambitious revolutionary project—a project that, in one way or another, we were connected to; and it is the name of that project that we argue as I do here on one side or another of the current debate. Perhaps the time has come for them to take the banner from our hands and to find some way of changing the terms of the debate.
Jorge Klor de Alva has argued that the conditions of coloniality were radically different in Latin America than in Asia or Africa—so much so as to challenge the viability of the very concepts of the colo- nial and postcoloniality for Latin America: Imperial Histories and Postcolonial Displace- ments. Testimonial Discourse in Latin America Durham: Duke University Press, When he finished, I remarked,: It seems to me that basically you want to change Mexico from a Latin American country into a North American country.
This mediation is not only a question of geographic location: The suggestion of Caliban's ethnic and sexual enervation is also indicated by intimations of sexual deviancy within democracy Michael Aronna, 'Pueblos Enfermos': This is a very embarrassing question; he is touching a nerve—a ticklish nerve I should add.
In asking this question, Verdesio would seem to mock those of us who have worked with Latin American Subaltern Studies Group, by the same token his question conveys the importance he grants to recognition and conveys a perception from those in Latin American Studies outside the group. If all desire of recognition were narcissistic, wouldn't it be further exacerbated in work on subalternity where elite scholars end up being the subject of debates circumscribed by metaphysics of denegation and privilege?
Wouldn't this recognition at the expense of the others suggest a token to which we sub- scribe all too willingly when we qualify our interventions with such phrases: Is it that—as far as the Indians are concerned—one or two, perhaps three, Latin Americanists would suffice? They have always struck me as a generous, if rigorous, bunch. In my case, melancholy for a lost affinity group leads me to reflect on my personal motivations and investment in the Latin American Subal- tern Studies Group.
I cannot resist thinking of how the concept of the subaltern and the enterprise as a whole have turned into an intellectual fetish. The easiest answer to Verdesio's question is that the Indians are just ignorant, but that would not be satisfactory because they do read some Latin Americanist historians and anthropologists e. Verdesio may, perhaps, have in mind those working in English departments—they are too busy establishing their primacy in the multiculturalist debates.
Why should they read us? Why should we care? But by mimicking even if willy-nilly the Subaltern Studies project, were we inevitably soliciting their acknowledgement and falling prey to one of the most famous phrases in postcolonial theory: On the Latin American side, I cannot forget the dismissal of an arrogant Argentinean historian who represented our relation to the Indian group as one in which we borrowed a ready-to-assemble kit.
I started producing academic work in the early s under what has come to be defined as postcolonial theory, then an emerging field with ample visibility in the History of Consciousness Program at the University of California at Santa Cruz where I was writing a dissertation on the inven- tion of America.
It was part of the semio-sphere that enabled me to ask some of the questions that have determined my work. It was not called postcolonial theory yet or at least in my absentmindedness I did not pick up on its aspirations to define a movement, perhaps because there were other equally interesting approaches circulating in the program, namely Hayden White's work on historiography, James Clifford's readings of the poetics and politics of ethnography, and Donna Haraway's feminist history of sci- ence.
Cultural studies as invented by the Birmingham School were also very important. Actually, I did not grasp this term in its current definition until years later when a colleague of mine helped me articulate the ideological differences that had emerged in the aftermath of the national liberation movements that followed World War II, of which Franz Fanon was the emblematic thinker.
Obviously, questions of recognition haunted my project, but they had more to do with writing an acceptable dis- sertation, finding a job, and publishing my work. It never occurred to me that I was courting the Indian group or that I was writing as a Latin Ameri- can ist. Certainly, I was pleased to learn that some liked my work, invited me to conferences, published my work in anthologies, and were willing to hire me in a Spanish department, but I never conceived of my project as seeking the recognition of a postcolonial elite recently arrived to the position of master discourse. My affinities were closer to those who were writing under the sign of minority discourse with no aspirations of constituting a new master code, of establishing a new par- adigm unless this effort was understood as a new sensibility with little patience for absolutes, models, or even concepts that claim universal appli- cability.
Isn't the application of theory and concepts an unarmed discourse? In the case of the Latin American group, setting models and concepts in English for others writing in Spanish—i. But this was hardly the case of the South Asian Subaltern Studies project: Should we continue to read them with no regard for the particular appropriation of the Latin American subalternists, if anyone clinging to this affiliation still exists? What is retrievable in the work of the Latin American group? These letters were written to and published by Billy's mother. The letters cover a period of time from November to August ; book ends with a moving "Moriturus Te Salutat", to the memory of a fallen comrade referred to only as McCarthy.
Brown paper-covered boards with brown cloth spine, gilt spine lettering, brown lettering on f Paris, France, Presses Universitaires de France: A collection of 12 articles by the authors listed. The text is in French. Minor wear and soiling to the wraps and some foxing to the text block head edge. Previous owner's name on the first page half title page. Text is in Russian Cyrillic.
A brief historical outline of the artillery actions in some of the biggest operations of the Second World War: Black cloth-covered boards have light edgewear, bit of tearing at binding joins on two pages; library markings consist of spine label, stamped text block, attachments on front endpaper. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, John C. Off white covers with patterned red lettering and main titling in dark blue in a saddle stapled binding.
A practical book that arose out of a response to the government's appeal to convert old material into useful articles, this book deals with the salvaging of old garments and using the material to make new items to be distributed by the British War Relief Society of the United States of America. Grace Garman was the chairman o Dark blue cloth over boards with gilt lettering on the spine and the front board along with blind stamped border rules on the front and back boards.
The text block head edge is gilt as issued. The fore and tail edges of the text block are untrimmed, again as issued. Illustrated with 35 pages of black and white photographs printed on a coated paper stock. Various lists of workers and committee members are present. A few fore edges of the Staple bound with photographic wraps yapped edges of approximately.
The back pocket includes a small protractor, map scale and 5 of the original 7 maps it was issued with: The yapped edges are creased and the covers are Tan paper over boards with brown cloth on spine. One fold-out drawing of a plug and socket panel facing page and three more fold-outs, two charts and one map, at the back. Previous owner's name a Corporal Morse of the signal corps on the inside of the front cover. The book shows moderate wear and soiling with a tear in the cloth spine at the tail.
The back free end paper is torn at the tail end of the gutter. Quite clean inside a A collection of articles about warfare by Chinese authorities, the publication of which was made possible by the willingness of Chinese authorities to make available to the west, previously inaccessible material. The articles are grouped into 4 main sections: Keun, an essayist and part of an international group of liberals with eyes on world affairs and the rise of totalitarian ideologies, writes of her concerns for the post-World War II situations in what she terms "the Middle Zone of Europe", ie, Finland, Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, Czechoslovakia, Hungary, Rumania, Yugoslavia, Bulgaria, Greece.
A clean, tight vol Orange wraps with black lettering over a flat stapled binding. In other words - transcripts of war time broadcasts by various journalists etc. Shirer, Ralph Ingersoll, Col. Bowman, John Bird, J. Unpaginated with 66 pages. From the preface by W. Bennett Campbell, the Minster of Veterans at the time: A bilingual publication in English and French with 91 captioned black and white photographs.
Card stock covers with black lettering on front and back, none on spine. Previous owner's Institute stamp on front. Pen scribble on front and pencil notations on last blank page. Copy is slightly cocked with a damp stain on bottom of spine and a wee bit onto text tail edge. General but mild wear and soiling to outsides, inside is clean and book is tight. Overall, a nice copy of a scarce war-time publication. Fair 4to - 29 x 23 cm. View more info Adding Sieg ohne Froeden First Edition Seller ID: Very Good with no dust jacket 12mo - Ukrains'ka RSR u velykii vitchyznyanii viini radyans'kogo soyuzu rr.
Good 8vo - 24 x 17 cm. Mobilization of Manpower in the Army of the United States. Good with no dust jacket 12mo - 19 x Very Good- 8vo - 24 x