Monday, December 23, 2019

The Apocalypse of Settler Colonialism,


Gerald Horne 

In The Apocalypse of Settler Colonialism, Gerald Horne once again earns his reputation as a nuanced transnational historian of race and class. In this, his thirtieth book, Horne demonstrates that modernity arrived in the seventeenth century on the three horsemen of the apocalypse: slavery, white supremacy, and capitalism. Through a focus on English colonial projects, Horne proves these phenomena to be inseparable and interlocking, rather than, for instance, separate pillars of a single structure. Horne’s deft archival work reveals rebellion to be a powerful and primary historical force, and clarifies whiteness as a category of convenience used to quell the vibrant cross-class and cross-racial revolutions which erupted throughout the seventeenth century—from England to Jamaica, Barbados to Boston—rebellions that reverberated through the formation of the United States forward to this day. 
In Horne’s adroit analysis, seventeenth-century merchant class revolts against the monarchy, long thought to be paeans to democracy and liberalism, are shown to be inextricable from the violent enslavement of Africans and Native Americans. For example, Horne shows how the American revolution of 1776, often understood as a liberal democratic rebellion, was less laudable: a merchant class of capitalists used the “democratic” spread of white supremacy to wrest wealth from a divinely ordained monarchy’s monopoly on slavery. White supremacy, as Horne’s historical research shows, is a tool of capital accumulation. Whiteness was used to justify the opening up of slave markets, the accelerated brutality of colonial and settler colonial genocide and extraction economies, and the solidification of a categorical Other underwriting the war logic that continues to define modernity. The Apocalypse of Settler Colonialism makes essential interventions into existing scholarship on the history of racial formation, the emergence of liberal democracy, and the transnational dynamics of settler capitalism. 
In its attention to the conditions of crisis within seventeenth-century colonial projects, this book importantly backdates scholarship documenting the relationships between capital, class, and racial categories. Horne’s text traces a transnational and early history that Nell Irvin Painter takes up in the centuries that follow in her predominately American-focused The History of White People. Horne reveals the seventeenth century as an era where the preconditions for what Painter details are transnational. He establishes white supremacy (“often disguised in deceptive ‘non-racial’ words”) as an essential handmaiden to mercantile capitalism that crossed oceans, national boundaries, and political commitments (Horne 135). Merchants invoked white superiority to argue for their share of slave markets, making leaps from anti-monarchism to collaboration with royals with a flexibility that allowed an emergent capitalism to combine with elements of feudalism and slavery, a “blatant power and money grab by merchants [that] was then dressed in the finery of liberty and freedom” (Horne 172). Here, Horne joins the likes of Cedric Robinson, whose“racial capitalism” challenges the Marxist idea that capitalism was a revolutionary negation of feudalism. Instead, Horne and Robinson agree that a historical continuum of exploitation dominated by the merchant class who allied with republicanism or monarchism as it suited their financial and social gains. In some cases, too, this continuum was embodied in a single figure, as “some aristocrats by lineage became merchants by currency” (Horne 37).Tracing these continuities, Horne pays special attention to advancements in military technologies, national and imperial political dynamics, and the force of venture capital as the material conditions which allow for this “new kind of aristocracy that is whiteness” (13).
Horne’s book offers an early transnational history for work on the paradoxes of liberal democracy. Horne hones in on the Glorious Revolution of 1688––“Not So Glorious for Africans and the Indigenous”––as emblematic of the convenient use of liberal democracy to cover merchant capitalists in the dawning of the Africa and Native North America’s apocalypse(Horne 164). Horne catalogues the historical beginnings of what Chandan Reddy calls Freedom With Violence but argues“It would be an error to ascribe fiendish barbarity to Western Europeans alone, even settlers” (Horne 59). He instead attributes the apocalypse to the systems of settler capitalism that recruited from across Europe and Britain and had impacts across the globe (Horne 59).Indeed, “the bloody process of human bondage” which included nearly 13 million Africans and possibly as many as 5 million native Americans, was “the driving and animating force” of the apocalypse that made both democracy possible and the executors of this apocalypse unbelievably wealthy(Horne 9). 
Horne’s text complements studies taking up more recent paradoxes of liberalism, adding transnational historical depth to studies of our contemporary moment. Horne’s research fills out the colonial history informing work such as the Economies of Dispossession explored in a 2018 issue of Social Text, Lisa Lowe’s Intimacies of Four Continents, Wendy Brown’s Walled States, Waning Sovereignty, David Theo Goldberg’s Sites of Race, and Grace Kyungwon Hong’s The Ruptures of American Capital. Horne’s book also provides an essential antecedent to texts that take up these paradoxes in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, such as Timothy Powell’s Ruthless Democracy, Brenda Bhandar’s The Colonial Lives of Property, Laura Stohler’s Race and the Education of Desire, and Patrick Wolfe’s Traces of History. The Apocalypse of Settler Colonialism is an essential colonial pre-history for Aileen Moreton-Robinson’s The White Possessive, Roxanne Dunbar Ortiz’s An Indigenous People’s History of the United States, and David Stannard’s The American Holocaust. Moreover, Horne documents the seventeenth century’s “racializing rationalization of inhumanity” in complement to Jamaican social theorist Sylvia Wynter’s essential insights that categories of the “human” were crucial to the creation of racial Others that accompanied conquest even before Columbus with the landing of the Portuguese on the shores of western Africa (Horne 8). 
Horne’s focus on rebellions like King Phillip’s war, which was inflamed by colonists selling Indigenous peoples into slavery, connects Indigenous and African political movements and details their power in the face of right-wing populist demagogues like Francis Bacon (Horne 145).
 Crucially, just as Nick Estes’ Our History is the Future reveals Indigenous struggles to be a powerful historical agent, Horne’s attention to the power of seventeenth-century political movements, especially African and Native rebellions, makes clear that transnational solidarity is as old as colonialism and remains the greatest opponent of transnational settler colonialism and imperialism. Horne’s text enhances recent work in Indigenous, Black, and ethnic studies that explores the “apocalypse,” rebellion, and settler colonialism as a set of apocalypse-inducing technologies aimed at dispossession that communities of color have been outlasting for centuries (la paperson 10). Potawatomi environmental philosopher Kyle Whyte has shown the ways Native
communities in the United States and Canada already live “what our ancestors would have likely characterized as a dystopian future” (Horne 207). Whyte’s words resonate with scholars across disciplines such as Grace Dillon (English), Cutcha Risling Baldy (Native American Studies), Zoe Todd (Anthropology), Lawrence Gross (Race and Ethnic Studies), Sidner Larson (American Indian Studies),and other Indigenous writers who emphasize that Indigenous peoples are experienced survivors of the past and ongoing apocalypse of settler colonial capitalism. Indigenous Futurisms, a term coined by Grace Dillon, was inspired by Afrofuturism which builds on Mark Sinker’s claim that the “Apocalypse already happened: that (in Public Enemy’s phrase) Armageddon been in effect”(Sinker).Horne’s study offers a vital historical archive for these recent anti-colonial futurisms. 
Horne’s vibrant language and anticolonial methodology tracing seventeenth-century apocalypse adds urgency to his argument that revolution today is not just possible, but long overdue. For instance, his historical narrative relates the rebellions in1640s Barbados, Antigua, Virginia, Maryland, and Bermuda to our own delayed revolutionary moment, making clear that the apocalypse was not merely a game of the elites, but, rather, perpetrated by those who could rapidly class-climb by consenting to a solidarity based on racial capitalism that has yet to disappear. To make these connections across decades, centuries, and geographies, Horne moves forward and backward in time in ways that can be dizzying for those more comfortable with linear chronology. However, Horne’s deliberate interruption of progressive time may be a methodological aspect of his argument. The Apocalypse of Settler Colonialism disrupts the forward movement of what Mark Rifkin calls “settler time” which normalizes colonial histories of modernity, and refuses the backward revisionism that Claire Colebrook reads in Western apocalyptic narratives(Rifkin). In this interruption, Horne’s methodology closely aligns with Nick Estes’ explorations of the apocalyptic prophecies informing the Standing Rock movement. Estes reminds readers that “Indigenous resistance draws from a long history, projecting itself backward and forward in time” (Estes 18). Similarly, Alexis Pauline Gumbo examines this forward-backward movement in terms of “black feminist time travel,” a time-space continuum where those seeking social justice today draw on the strength of people like Harriet Tubman, who, too, used her imagination of the freedom that many experience now as a source of strength to survive and free others. These Indigenous and Black studies scholars detail continuance through and beyond The Apocalypse of Settler Colonialism, vital scholarship that builds decolonial futures into the historical recognition so assiduously archived in Horne’s research. Horne’s research and powerful conclusion gain even more force when understood in conversation with this growing body of research. The Apocalypse of Settler Colonialism also draws attention to the ways apocalypse has been used to justify and reinvigorate these systems of exploitation, as scholars like Betsy Hartmann, Joanna Zylinska, Andrew McMurry, Eddie Yuen, Larry Lohman, and Frederick Buell show and the recent issue of ASAP/Journal explores. Though Horne does not make these literary connections explicit, his brief mention of today’s alarming reprise of fascism offers scholars an opportunity to connect his work to literary, Black, and Indigenous studies scholarship regarding contemporary invocations of the apocalypse such as ecofascist responses to climate change. 

The Apocalypse of Settler Colonialism provokes, but does not plot, the correlations between the rebellions and climate crisis of the 1600s and the ways that relates to our own contemporary climate chaos and social justice movements. Horne does gesture to those connections, drawing Parker’s work on seventeenth-century climate change into relation with the piratical character of capitalism, anti-Blackness, Indigenous genocide, and settler colonialism. Horne gifts scholars the space to extend these exigent connections from his seventeenth century work even farther across time and space. The Apocalypse of Settler Colonialism is essential reading for any scholar, student, or civic intellectual interested in transnational American studies, global economic systems, or the contemporary parallel rise of fascism and the apocalypses of climate change.
April Anson, University of Pennsylvania
Works Cited
Bhandar, Brenda. The Colonial Lives of Property: Law, Land, and Racial Regimes of Ownership. Duke University Press, 2018.
Brown, Wendy. Walled States, Waning Sovereignty. Zone Books, 2010. 
Buell, Frederick. From Apocalypse to Way of Life: Environmental Crisis in the American Century. Routledge, 2004.
Byrd, Jodi A. et al. “Economies of Dispossession: Indigeneity, Race, Capitalism.” Social Text 135.36:2(2018) pp. 1-18.Colebrook, Claire. “Slavery and the Trumpocene: It’s Not the End of the World.” Oxford Literary Review. 41:1(2019) pp.40-50.
Dillon, Grace. Walking the Clouds: An Anthology of Indigenous Science Fiction. University of Arizona Press, 2012.
Dunbar-Ortiz, Roxanne. An Indigenous People’s History of the United States. Beacon Press, 2015.
Estes, Nick. Our History is the Future: Standing Rock Versus the Dakota Access Pipeline, and the Long Tradition of Indigenous Resistance. Verso, 2019.
Goldberg, David Theo. Sites of Race: Conversations with Susan Searls Giroux. Polity, 2014. 
Gumbo, Alexis Pauline. “like seeds or a guide to black feminist time travel.” Everyday Genius, 3 August 2012,  http://www.everyday-genius.com/2012/07/alexis-pauline-gumbs.html.
Gross, Lawrence. “The Comic Vision of Anishinaabe Culture and Religion.” American Indian Quarterly. 26:3(2003)  pp.436-59.
Hartmann, Betsy. The America Syndrome: Apocalypse, War, and Our Call to Greatness. Seven Stories Press, 2017.
Hong, Grace Kyungwon. The Ruptures of American Capital: Women of Color Feminisms and the Culture of Immigrant Labor. University of Minnesota Press, 2006.
Hurley, Jessica and Dan Sinykin. “Apocalypse: Introduction,”ASAP/Journal. 3:3(2018) pp.451-66. 
la paperson. A Third University is Possible. University of Minnesota Press, 2017.
Larson, Sidner. Captured in the Middle: Tradition and Experience in Contemporary Native American Writing. University of Washington Press, 2001. 
Lohman, Larry. “Fetishisms of the Apocalypse.” The Corner House, 20 September 2014, http://www.thecornerhouse.org.uk/resource/fetishisms-apocalypse.
Lowe, Lisa Intimacies of Four Continents. Duke University Press, 2015. 
McMurry, Andrew. “The Slow Apocalypse: A Gradualistic Theory of World’s Demise.” Postmodern Culture. 6:3(1996)  pp.1-23.
Moreton-Robinson, Aileen. The White Possessive: Power, Property, and Indigenous Sovereignty. U. of Minnesota P.,  2015.
Painter, Nell Irvin. The History of White People. W.W. Norton & Company, 2010.
Parker, Geoffrey. Global Crisis: War, Climate Change, and Catastrophe in the Seventeenth Century. Yale University Press, 2014.
Powell, Timothy. Ruthless Democracy: A Multicultural Interpretation of the American Renaissance. Princeton University Press, 2000.
Reddy, Chandran. Freedom with Violence: Race, Sexuality, and the US State. Duke University Press, 2011.
Risling-Baldy, Cutcha. “Why I Teach the Walking Dead in My Native Studies Classes.” The Nerds Of Color, 24 April 2014, https://thenerdsofcolor.org/2014/04/24/why-i-teach-the-walking-dead-in-….
Rifkin, Mark. Beyond Settler Time: Temporal Sovereignty and Indigenous Self-Determination. Duke University Press, 2017. 
Robinson, Cedric. Black Marxism: The Making of the Black Radical Tradition. University of North Carolina Press, 2005.
Sinker, Mark. “Loving the Alien/In Advance of the Landing” The Wire (February 1996).
Stannard, David. The American Holocaust: The Conquest of the New World. Oxford University Press, 1993.
Stohler, Ann Laura. Race and the Education of Desire: Foucault’s History of Sexuality and the Colonial Order of Things. Duke University Press, 1995.
Todd, Zoe. “Relationships.” In “Lexicon for an Anthropocene Yet Unseen.” Cultural Anthropology, 21 January 2016, https://culanth.org/fieldsights/relationships.
Whyte, Kyle Powys. “Our Ancestors’ Dystopia Now: Indigenous Conservation and the Anthropocene,” in The Routledge Companion to the Environmental Humanities. Ursula K. Heise, Jon Christensen, and Michelle Niemann, eds. Routledge, 2017, pp. 206-15.
Wolfe, Patrick. Traces of History: Elementary Structures of Race. Verso, 2016. 
Wynter, Sylvia. “Unsettling the Coloniality of Being/Power/Truth/Freedom: Towards the Human, After Man, Its Overrepresentation—An Argument.”CR: The New Centennial Review 3:3(2003)  pp. 257-337.
Yuen, Eddie. “The Politics of Failure Have Failed: The Environmental Movement and Catastrophism.” In Catastrophism: The Apocalyptic Politics of Collapse and Rebirth, Sasha Lilley, David McNally, Eddie Yuen, James Davis, and Doug Henwood, eds. PM Press, 2012, pp.15-43.
Zylinska, Joanna. The End of Man: A Feminist Counterapocalypse. University of Minnesota Press, 2018.

Thursday, December 5, 2019

Fruit Walls: Urban Farming in the 1600s

Friday, November 29, 2019

Democracy requires a shared Sense of Responsibility

William Martin 

"Now that the impeachment proceedings have reached a pause, it is time to take a deep breath and consider the big picture.

The evidence presented so far is overwhelming. President Trump allegedly used $391 million of military aid and a dangled White House visit to extort the Ukrainian government into opening a bogus investigation for Trump’s own personal and political gain. Those allegations have been corroborated by multiple sources — none of whom qualify as partisan shills. The evidence comes from a summary of a phone call released by the White House itself; from a series of high-level advisers and ambassadors that Trump appointed himself; and even from a guy who liked Trump so much that he gave his inauguration fund $1 million. (Trump drained the swamp by returning the million-dollar favor with a coveted ambassadorship).

But does evidence even matter anymore? If it doesn’t, what does that say about the state of our democracy?

In a mid-November Marist/NPR survey, 65 percent of respondents answered “no” to the question: “Can you imagine any information or circumstances during the impeachment inquiry where you might change your mind about your position on impeachment?” 73 percent of Republicans and 68 percent of Democrats said there was literally nothing they could imagine that would cause them to change their point of view. Seriously?

This is particularly telling for Republicans who oppose impeachment. After all, some Democrats may argue that the burden of proof has already been reached to support impeachment. But for Republicans who oppose it — who believe that burden of proof has not yet been reached — they are saying that there is nothing imaginable that could cause them to ever support impeachment. That’s akin to acknowledging that Trump was right when he claimed he could shoot someone on Fifth Avenue and not lose of any of his supporters. With hardening attitudes, compromise and consensus become impossible — and democracy withers.

Democracies require a shared sense of reality. To solve problems, you have to agree they exist. And to impeach presidents, Americans of all partisan stripes need to know when damning facts are staring them in the face. That’s no longer the case.



Instead, Americans inhabit two separate realities — or, more accurately, one group inhabits a fantasy world that exists parallel to reality. Last week, Trump’s handpicked ambassador to the European Union testified that there was a nefarious quid pro quo with Ukraine, and that “we followed the president’s orders.” The ambassador implicated the president in an egregious abuse of power. In response, Fox News hosts and Trump’s Twitter feed erupted into celebration, boasting that the damning testimony had somehow exonerated Trump. (It had not).

The Marist/NPR poll exposed this dynamic: Eighty-seven percent of respondents who support impeachment said the hearings made them more likely to support impeachment, while 85 percent who oppose impeachment said the hearings made them less likely to support impeachment. Crimes, it seems, are now in the eye of the beholder. Not a good sign for a democracy that is built upon the rule of law.

But beyond such dire polarization, there’s another sobering threat to our democracy: apathy. This is not new. In 2016, roughly 3 in 10 American adults voted for Hillary Clinton. Roughly 3 in 10 adults voted for Trump. That means 4 in 10 Americans did not vote. Apathy beat both candidates.

Opinion | Impeachment: Why so much is at stake
The impeachment inquiry into President Trump has exposed troubling cracks in the political system. (Video: Joy Sharon Yi, Kate Woodsome/Photo: Danielle Kunitz/The Washington Post)
During impeachment proceedings, there has been a particularly insidious form of apathy showcased by Sen. Lindsey O. Graham (R-S.C.), who said he refuses to read any evidence related to impeachment. “I’ve written the whole process off. . . . I think this is a bunch of B.S.,” he said. Graham will likely soon be a juror in a Senate trial. Imagine if a juror in a normal trial refused to even look at the evidence. He would be held in contempt of court. Instead, Graham will probably just be reelected in 2020.

But Graham’s apathy is contagious. The more that elected leaders signal they aren’t paying attention to an historic impeachment process, the more that voters think it’s acceptable to tune out, too. Thirty-seven percent of adults nationally have said that they are not paying much attention to impeachment hearings. Republicans are more likely to be ignoring the proceedings than Democrats.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to work. The Founding Fathers envisioned impeachment as a remedy to presidential misconduct. They anticipated a figure such as Trump, a demagogue who used the awesome powers he held to advance himself rather than the United States. They planned for a corrupt president, but they didn’t have a backup plan if his rise coincided with a complicit Congress.

Impeachment, therefore, is about more than Trump, a far-from-perfect phone call, and a shadow foreign policy laced with extortion and bribery. It’s about the essence of our democracy, which can work only if certain conditions are fulfilled. Decisions must be based on evidence rather than partisanship. Presidents must be held accountable when they break the law, not only when the rival party has a two-thirds majority in the Senate. And individual members of Congress should follow their moral compass rather than the one that points to reelection."

Sunday, November 3, 2019

The first map of America’s food supply chain is mind-boggling

Our map is a comprehensive snapshot of all food flows between counties in the U.S.—grains, fruits and vegetables, animal feed, and processed food items.
To build the map, we brought together information from eight databases, including the Freight Analysis Framework from Oak Ridge National Laboratory, which tracks where items are shipped around the country, and Port Trade data from the U.S. Census Bureau, which shows the international ports through which goods are traded.
We also released this information in a publicly available database.
This map shows how food flows between counties in the U.S. Each line represents the transportation of all food commodities, along transit routes, such as roads or railways. [Image: Environmental Research Letters (2019)]
What does this map reveal?

1. WHERE YOUR FOOD COMES FROM

Now, residents in each county can see how they are connected to all other counties in the country via food transfers. Overall, there are 9.5 million links between counties on our map. 
All Americans, from urban to rural are connected through the food system. Consumers all rely on distant producers, agricultural processing plants, food storage like grain silos and grocery stores, and food transportation systems.
For example, the map shows how a shipment of corn starts at a farm in Illinois, travels to a grain elevator in Iowa before heading to a feedlot in Kansas, and then travels in animal products being sent to grocery stores in Chicago.

2. WHERE THE FOOD HUBS ARE

At over 17 million tons of food, Los Angeles County received more food than any other county in 2012, our study year. It shipped out even more: 22 million tons.
California’s Fresno County and Stanislaus County are the next largest, respectively. In fact, many of the counties that shipped and received the most food were located in California. This is due to the several large urban centers, such as Los Angeles and San Francisco, as well as the productive Central Valley in California.
We also looked for the core counties—the places that are most central to the overall structure of the food supply network. A disruption to any of these counties may have ripple effects for the food supply chain of the entire country.
We did this by looking for counties with the largest number of connections to others, as well as those that score highly in a factor called “betweenness centrality,” a measurement of the places with the largest fraction of the shortest paths.
San Bernardino County led the list, followed again by a number of other California transit hubs. Also on the list are Maricopa County, Arizona; Shelby County, Tennessee; and Harris County, Texas.
However, our estimates are for 2012, an extreme drought year in the Cornbelt. So, in another year, the network may look different. It’s possible that counties within the Cornbelt would show up as more critical in non-drought years. This is something that we hope to dig into in future work.

3. HOW FOOD TRAVELS FROM PLACE TO PLACE

We also looked at how much food is transported between one county and another.
Many of the largest food transport links were within California. This indicates that there is a lot of internal food movement within the state.
One of the largest links is from Niagara County to Erie County in New York. That’s due to the flow of food through an important international overland port with Canada.
Some of the other largest links were inside the counties themselves. This is because of moving food items around for manufacturing within a county—for example, milk gets off a truck at a large depot and is then shipped to a yogurt facility, then the yogurt is moved to a grocery distribution warehouse, all within the same county.
The food supply chain relies on a complex web of interconnected infrastructure. For example, a lot of grain produced throughout the Midwest is transported to the Port of New Orleans for export. This primarily occurs via the waterways of the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers.
The infrastructure along these waterways—such as locks 52 and 53—are critical, but have not been overhauled since their construction in 1929. They represent a serious bottleneck, slowing down innumerable supply chains nationwide, including that of grain. If they were to fail entirely, then commodity transport and supply chains would be completely disrupted.
Railroads are also important for moving grain. Fresh produce, on the other hand, is often moved around the country by refrigerated truck. This is due to the need to keep fresh fruits and vegetables—relatively high value agricultural products—cool until they reach the consumer. In future work, we hope to evaluate the specific infrastructure that is critical to the U.S. food supply chain.

Megan Konar is assistant professor of civil and environmental engineering at University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. This post originally appeared on The Conversation.