Textbook Notes (367,906)
Canada (161,487)
POLI 227 (58)
Rex Brynen (21)
Chapter

Clapham 12-38.pdf

23 Pages
82 Views
Unlock Document

Department
Political Science
Course
POLI 227
Professor
Rex Brynen
Semester
Winter

Description
Christopher
Clapham,
Third World Politics  1
 (different
pagination
than
original
text)
   2 

 THE
COLONIAL
STATE
AND
ITS
DEMISE
   European
Colonialism
 I have already argued that the idea of a ‘third world politics’ makes sense only in the context of a single world. Before the creation of a global political order, and the global economy to go with it, the infinitely varied political structures of Asia, Africa and the Americas possessed no common features which could bring them together as a single category for analysis. The importance of European colonialism is that it was, more than anything else, the means by which this global political and economic order was created. In the process, societies with their own internal structures and dynamics became linked with, and subordinated to, a set of global interactions and institutions with a dynamic of its own. By far the greater part of what is now known as the third world was, at one time or another, subjected to formal colonial rule by one or another of the states of the western European seaboard. Even those societies which retained their independence were obliged to come to terms with a world in which European influence was dominant, and to adapt their own domestic political structures and economies to meet the European prerequisites of statehood. The Imposition of Colonial Rule  There was, however, no uniform imposition of European dominance on exotic societies. Some areas were effectively colonised by the late fifteenth century, others not until early in the twentieth. Almost the whole of what is now Latin America had been independent for well over half a century before the first District Commissioner set foot in many parts of Africa. Colonialism took different forms, depending on the colonising state itself, the reasons for which it sought to extend itself overseas and, especially, on the social organisation and respon1e of the colonised people. A simple timescale of the process is, therefore, needed. The ultimate basis of colonialism was technological, and its principal motive was economic. The states of western Europe developed inventions and forms of organisation which enabled them, slowly at first, to control others and thereby to acquire wealth. The first, and for many centuries the most important, of their technological advantages was the ocean-going sailing ship, in which they Christopher
Clapham,
Third World Politics    2
 (different
pagination
than
original
text)
   could break out of the enclosing ring set by the Atlantic Ocean to their west and north, and the Islamic societies to their east and south. Europeans could reach other parts of the world; others, save the Turks and Arabs, could not reach Europe. Developed from the mid-fifteenth century onwards, the ocean-going ship had within well under a hundred years enabled Europeans to reach all the way round the globe. The Portuguese reached Cape Verde, only 1,700 miles from Lisbon, in 1460; Magellan’s circumnavigation took place in 1519–22. But while ships enabled Europeans to reach other parts of the world, what happened when they got there depended on what, and who, they found. Their search was, initially at least, for areas rich enough to exploit and weak enough to control. On this basis, a very broad distinction can be made between three main forms of colonialism, each chiefly associated with a particular era, a particular continent and a particular set of colonial powers: the Americas, both rich and easy to control; Asia, rich but difficult to control; and Africa, for the most part poor and so scarcely worth controlling. What was distinctive about colonialism in the Americas was the thoroughness and brutality with which it destroyed the indigenous Amerindian societies. In the islands of the Caribbean—the easiest of conquests for a seaborne colonialism—the local peoples were almost entirely wiped out within a few generations. On the mainland the Inca and Aztec empires, no matter how wealthy and sophisticated, were quite incapable of defending themselves against the smallest bands of Spanish conquistadors. The extent to which the Amerindians were physically exterminated varied from area to area. They still account for an appreciable proportion of the population of parts of north-west South America, with some 70 per cent of the population in Bolivia and 46 per cent in Peru, and form sizeable minorities in some other South and Central American states such as 2 Ecuador (39 per cent) and Mexico (30 per cent). They are virtually non-existent in southern South America and entirely absent from the islands. Even where substantial populations survive, however, they remain socially, economically and politically subordinate. Independence, as in the United States and the ‘white dominions’ of Canada, Australia and New Zealand, has marked the transfer of power to settler rather than indigenous communities. The destruction of indigenous society made possible (and indeed was prompted by) the imposition of European-oriented economies, a process carried through with much greater intensity in the Americas than in any other large area of the third world. This in turn helped to determine the pattern of external settlement. The closest approximations to the European economies themselves developed in temperate areas without easily exploitable mineral wealth, notably in what are now the northern United States and Canada, though also in some degree in the extreme south of the continent, in Argentina and Chile. These areas were almost entirely confined to European settlement, slower to develop and, at least until the early nineteenth century, less wealthy than the tropical zones. Paradoxically, and Christopher
Clapham,
Third World Politics    3
 (different
pagination
than
original
text)
   following much greater levels of European immigration during the nineteenth century, the United States and Canada developed to the extent that they are now archetypical ‘first world’ states, while the semi-temperate Latin American states (Argentina, Chile, Mexico) are among the most industrialised of third world states, even while displaying a number of characteristically third world political patterns. Those areas which proved suitable for the production of tropical crops for the European market had a very different experience from the temperate zones, both of immigration and of dependence. Sugar, tobacco, cotton and coffee were most effectively grown in plantations owned and managed by Europeans with a large, controlled labour force. Though this labour force could be composed of Europeans or Amer-indians, the solution adopted in Brazil, the Caribbean and the southern United States was to import slaves from the west coast of Africa, a trade which continued for some three hundred years from the mid-sixteenth century and poured millions of Africans into the Americas. The corrosive political effects of that trade are still the dominant political legacy of the areas in which it occurred, even long after its original economic rationale has disappeared. In some parts of the Caribbean, notably Guyana and Trinidad, a renewed demand for plantation labour in the later nineteenth century led to the import of Indian workers, as indentured labourers rather than as slaves, whose descendants now uneasily co- exist with those of the earlier African immigration. The effects of colonialism in transporting disparate groups of people—Africans, Indians, Europeans, even Chinese—to distant parts of the world, and then leaving them to get on as best they may, are nowhere more starkly illustrated than in the West Indies. The Americas, and especially Latin America, remain the most sharply distinguishable area within the third world. The differences between Africa and Asia are nothing like as great as those between either of them and Latin America. The principal difference in straight-forwardly political terms, Latin America’s much earlier achievement of national independence, means that it is effectively excluded from therest of this chapter, which deals with the structure of colonial government and the indigenous movements formed to displace it. Another and more basic difference, the virtual absence of any ‘traditional’ or indigenous society, also has pervasive political consequences. In Latin America, moreover, unlike any other area of the third world save the exceptional cases of Israel and South Africa, the dominant groups are almost entirely of European origin. While American political scientists have often argued that the pattern of immigration into the United States accounted for the much lower salience of social class as a political factor there than in the European countries of origin, the effect of immigration into Latin America seems to have been paradoxically quite the opposite. Class has a salience in Latin American politics altogether at variance with its role in most other areas of the third world. Part of this salience is certainly due to the higher levels of urbanisation and industrialisation in Latin America than in Africa or much of Asia; but it is also due to the weakness or absence of those Christopher
Clapham,
Third World Politics    4
 (different
pagination
than
original
text)
   linkages which bound followers to leaders (and vice versa) in ‘traditional’ Afro- Asian societies, and their replacement by the much more exploitative relations derived from the elites’ control, first of land and secondly of the state. So far from making Latin American states less ‘third worldly’, however, this pattern of class politics has produced effects which (in addition to their position in the global economy and the role of the United States as a surrogate colonial power) make them more comparable with Afro-Asian states and less like the liberal systems produced by commercial capitalism in western Europe. In particular, it has emphasised the role of the state, the entrenchment of a bureaucratic bourgeoisie as the guardians and beneficiaries of that state, and a characteristically third world set of political consequences most sharply indicated by the level of military intervention. An ‘American’ pattern of colonialism can be found in some other parts of the world. Mauritius, for example, is in almost every respect a Caribbean island transported to the Indian Ocean, complete with its sugar plantations, its European Creole elite, its descendants of African slaves and of Indian indentured labourers. Plantation economies, reminiscent of the Americas but without African slave labour, were established on south-east Asian islands in the Indonesian archipelago and the Philippines. What distinguished Asia from the Americas, however, was the strength of its indigenous societies. In no case could these simply be destroyed or subordinated to a preponderantly settler society, as in the Americas. Although the economic advantages of European expansion in Asia were evident even before the discovery of the New World (itself the by-product of the search for a western route to India), European colonialism was for many years largely restricted to coastal trading posts. The rivalry between European powers in the region in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, and their felt need to assure themselves of friendly and peaceful neighbours, gradually sucked colonial rulers into the interior; but by far the greater part of the colonial acquisition of mainland Asia was a product of the nineteenth century. It proceeded by taking over existing political systems in their entirety, often (as with the British in India) preserving not only their boundaries but also their rulers and the external trappings of a distinct political identity. Elsewhere in the region, in Burma for example or Indo-China, river valley civilisations were annexed intact by one or another colonial power, the new fixed colonial frontiers roughly coinciding with the undemarcated boundaries within which pre-colonial rulers had claimed some kind of suzerainty. A number of such pre-colonial states, including Iran, Afghanistan and Thailand, remained independent, owing partly to the shrewdness and strength of their rulers, partly to their usefulness as buffer zones between rival colonialists. In eastern Asia, Japan and China retained, despite substantial European penetration, a far more genuine independence. In western Asia, the area now known as the Middle East experienced a peculiar combination of indigenous and external forms of government. Subject to Christopher
Clapham,
Third World Politics    5
 (different
pagination
than
original
text)
   European incursions since the time of the Crusades, almost the whole area (including northern Africa and south-east Europe) had, by the seventeenth century, come under the control of the Ottoman (Turkish) empire, which persisted until the First World War. Even before the empire’s final collapse, European powers including Britain, France and Italy had carved off bits of it as colonies or protectorates of their own, while afterwards Britain and France ruled most of the remaining Arab territories in conjunction with local dynasties. The impact of western colonialism was mitigated not only by a degree of internal self- government, but also by a pronounced sense of regional identity expressed in political form through Pan-Arabism and in religious form through Islam. Unlike the state-centred nationalisms of Iran or Thailand, Arab nationalism cut across the boundaries established by the administering powers, in a way which—more than in any other area of the third world—has challenged the pre-eminence of the post- colonial state as the framework for political activity. The African pattern was different again. A continent with little evident wealth (except in the form of its people, exported as slaves), and with an interior difficult to penetrate, it attracted little more than a few colonial coastal settlements until the very end of the nineteenth century. Outside Arab north Africa, where Algeria was colonised by France in 1830, only what is now South Africa attracted any substantial degree of permanent European occupation. Other settlements, like Dakar and Saint-Louis in Senegal, Freetown in Sierra Leone or the Republic of Liberia founded in 1822 for free people of colour from America, clung closely to the coast. Colonial occupation of the interior came late, from the later 1880s onwards, and extremely rapidly. It involved neither the extermination of indigenous people, as in the Americas, nor the creation of colonies broadly coinciding with existing cultures and political systems, as in Asia. Instead, colonial boundaries were laid down with an arbitrariness which took no account of indigenous societies or geographical zones, frequently by the simple expedient of drawing a line on a map several thousand miles away. Only one existing African state, the Empire of Ethiopia, succeeded in retaining its independence, though in the process it expanded its own frontiers until it was ethnically no less heterogeneous than any other African territory. Here and there, an indigenous kingdom such as Swaziland, Lesotho, Rwanda or Burundi, maintained its separate identity as a microcolony of a European state. Elsewhere, colonial boundaries marched across the ground with a casual disregard for the people whom they thus allocated to one or another colony. Along the Gulf of Guinea, colonial boundaries from Ivory Coast to Nigeria stretched at right angles to the coast, separating Akans, Ewes and Yorubas between different colonies, each of which included socially and politically disparate zones of coastal strip, forest and sub-Saharan savannah. Seventy or eighty years later, these arbitrary lines became the frontiers between independent states. Christopher
Clapham,
Third World Politics    6
 (different
pagination
than
original
text)
   The Structure of Colonial Government  Much of the discussion of colonialism, especially in Africa, has concentrated on the differences between colonial powers and, in particular, on their various theories or philosophies of colonial rule—a legacy of the days when colonialism as such was largely taken for granted, and the colonisers argued among themselves about the best way to justify and implement it. Many of these differences were not unimportant, and many of the variations in the political structures and experience of post-colonial states can be traced back to them, but they only became significant within the context of the common features imposed by colonialism on the colonised territories and societies as a whole. It is these common features which define the post-colonial state: the differences only go to indicate some of the forms which it can take. First, then, colonialism established territories and territorial boundaries where none had existed before. As has been shown, the degree to which these coincided with the boundaries of indigenous societies and political systems varied markedly from one area to another; but even where, as in south-east Asia, they coincided to a fair degree with indigenous cultural units, a fixed line was imposed in place of previously fluid frontier zones whose allegiance or degree of independence might vary with the strengths of its neighbours on either side. Any indigenous process of state formation, like the rise of the Zulu empire in southern Africa, was brought to an abrupt halt, and the authorities which it had created, if they were allowed to survive, were corralled within the grid laid down in agreements between colonial powers. Amended here and there, but basically unchanged, this grid now defines the existence of independent states. Secondly, colonialism established within each territory a political order and the administrative hierarchy to run it. The ultimate basis of this political order was, invariably, force: there is no other way in which a small group of alien rulers can establish control over a people not their own. The extent to which force needed to be continuously and directly applied, however, varied very greatly, in keeping with the level of effective military challenge which the colonised peoples and their leaders could sustain at the moment of conquest, and the degree of exploitation and repression imposed by the conquerors thereafter. It tended to be greater, therefore, in colonies of settlement, and greatest of all in colonies of settlement accompanied by intensive production. In many areas, notably in Africa, colonial rule was maintained, after the initial conquest, with astonishingly small amounts of force, many of the forces themselves being locally recruited. Failure to resist, obviously enough, does not refute the view that colonial rule was basically forcible in nature: it merely shows that many of the colonised appreciated that resistance was not worthwhile. The small colonial forces on the spot could and would, when occasion required, be reinforced from other colonies and the metropolitan country. But over and above that, force backed by manifest Christopher
Clapham,
Third World Politics    7
 (different
pagination
than
original
text)
   technological superiority acquired a peculiar legitimacy of its own. It was not simply not worth fighting: such power, and the people who exercised it, embodied a mystique, expressed not simply in guns but in books, uniforms, social behaviour and a mass of manufactured products. Only by accepting these things and those who brought them would it be possible to penetrate this mystique and grasp the power which lay behind it. The hold which colonial rule maintained over its subjects thus came to be psychological rather than crudely military, a point which helps to explain its continued relevance long after the colonial forces, and the colonisers themselves, had been withdrawn. The administrative structure established to run the colonial territory was necessarily both centralised and authoritarian. Authority came from overseas, from governments and ministries in London or Paris, and was channelled at local level through the governor, then distributed all the way down through the provincial commissioner to the district commissioner or commandant de cercle, and thence to the local auxiliaries of the administration, the chief or village headman. Since independence this structure has been indigenised, adapted and much extended. It runs back only to the new state’s capital city and the direct link overseas has been broken. Many of the assumptions and values which guided the old colonial services have been abandoned. But the structure itself is still recognisably the same, and with the decay in many cases of the political institutions generated at the time of independence, it has often emerged with increasing starkness as the frame on which the state is built. With it, again adapted but still recognisable, go the attitudes towards it, and thus towards the business of government in general, which colonialism induced—or perhaps in some cases simply strengthened. From the rulers, a sense of superiority over those whom they ruled, a sense of power emanating from above, rather than growing from below; for the ruled, a sense of the state as an alien imposition, to be accepted, certainly, and to be feared, cajoled and where possible exploited, but existing on a plane above the people whom it governed, and beyond any chance of control. Two further aspects of colonisation, going beyond the simple imposition of a colonial administration but enormously affected by it, fall outside the necessarily limited political focus of this book. One is the introduction of the colonial economy, the other that of new social attitudes, institutions and forms of communication between the colonised peoples themselves. These both reinforced external penetration and internal dependence, but at the same time, when added to the more straightforwardly political effects of colonialism, they did much to differentiate people within the new colonial territory from people outside, even if those outside were relatives, those inside traditional enemies. The colonial economy was channelled through mechanisms which duplicated the colonial administration, along roads and railways which penetrated the hinterland from the colonial administrative centres and the principal port cities. Deliberate colonial measures to create and control a cash economy, for instance by the imposition of a Christopher
Clapham,
Third World Politics    8
 (different
pagination
than
original
text)
   head tax and the introduction of produce marketing boards, reinforced the connection. The use of a common colonial language, and its spread through education, trade and government, both enabled the colonised to communicate with one another, and frequently cut them off from peoples controlled by a different coloniser beyond the frontier. There is still no more striking, even shocking, reminder of the impact of colonialism in Africa than to cross an entirely artificial frontier and witness the instant change of language—and with it a myriad number of associated manifestations of culture and government—that results. All this meant that the colonial state became the principal unit of political activity, accepted as such by indigenous peoples and leaders quite as much as by the colonial officials themselves. Politics and administration, at anything more than the very local level, meant dealing with colonial officialdom, and hence accepting—even, often, while opposing—the institutions which it had established. Liberation from colonial rule came to be seen as a matter of taking over these institutions rather than destroying them. In the process, the colonial state acquired a legitimacy as the framework for the creation of a nation, sometimes reinforcing pre-colonial identities—as in Burma, Kampuchea and Vietnam—but more often, especially in Africa, quite at variance with them, to such a degree that the cultures and institutions of local peoples themselves came to be branded by the new nationalist leaders as the manifestations of an illegitimate and divisive tribalism. The differences between forms of colonialism can only be appreciated within an understanding of these basic similarities. These derived from three main sources: the nature and impact of economic change, the structure of indigenous societies, and the policies and practices of the different colonial powers. Since the first two of these are touched on elsewhere, only the last will be examined here. Some selection is needed. Almost all of the states of western Europe, and several of their extracontinental offshoots, had colonies to a greater or lesser degree in the present-day third world: Portugal, Spain, France, Britain, Belgium, The Netherlands, Denmark, Germany, Italy and, among non-European countries, Australia, South Africa and the United States. Apart from the early Spanish and Portuguese empires, most of which were lost to metropolitan control by the early nineteenth century, only Britain and France had substantial empires spread over several continents. Germany lost her colonies after the First World War, Italy after the Second, while several of the others had only one colony of any significance, notably the Congo (Belgium), Indonesia (The Netherlands) and the Philippines (United States). Of the remainder, Portugal with its African possessions was substantially the most important. There is thus a lot to be said for the traditional comparison between Britain and France, since only there is it possible to distinguish broad outlines of policy from immediate local circumstances. In addition, they present such contrasting conceptual approaches to colonialism that most other states fall broadly into the range that they define, while similarities between them show the practical limitations on generally formulated policies. Christopher
Clapham,
Third World Politics    9
 (different
pagination
than
original
text)
   The means by which a colonial power justifies and exercises its power over those whom it has conquered tell one more perhaps about the colonisers than about the colonised. There is, first of all, a premise of inequality inherent in the colonisers’ conception of their own superiority, and their consequent arrogation to themselves of the right to determine the fate of the governed. This is in turn offset by the need to find some legitimising formula, for domestic, colonial and external consumption, which must necessarily be cast in universalistic terms. Though this inevitably calls on some conception of ‘civilisation’, by which values of a supposedly universal superiority are transferred from the coloniser to the colonised, the nature of the values and their transfer can have a lasting effect on those who find themselves on the receiving end. For the French, the key ideas were those of centralisation and assimilation, derived from the experience of nation-building in metropolitan France, coupled with an appeal to the egalitarian principles of the revolution of 1789. Indigenous social and cultural systems were, in principle, dismissed as worthless, but indigenous peoples were, in accordance with the Rights of Man, to be offered the chance of assimilation to the ideals of France herself, by acquiring French language, culture and nationality, and hence in time becoming indistinguishable from other Frenchmen. It was an ideal which was implicitly non-racialist, in that it regarded the inferiority of the colonised as being cultural rather than genetic, but the practical obstacles to its achievement were none the less overwhelming. Its full implementation would have called for human and financial resources which were entirely out of the question, for an intensive programme of education and acculturation, the improvement of living standards at least to a point at which comparison with metropolitan France would not be farcical, and doubtless also the forcible conversion of those who—especially in Indo-China and the Islamic parts of West Africa—had no desire to abandon their cultures, religions and identities for those of France. Nor is there any indication that France would have been willing to see her metropolitan citizens outvoted, in the National Assembly, by newly created and enfranchised Frenchmen from overseas. None the less these ideals, watered down after the Second World War to the more practicable level of ‘association’ rather than full assimilation, shaped the nature of French colonial government. In the field of local administration, they resulted where possible in the weakening of traditional rulers, by breaking up existing political units and, in West Africa, appointing chefs de canton, who generally had little status and whose authority was further diminished by charging them with unpopular tasks such as tax collection and forced labour. Even so, ‘traditional’ leaders, such as the Mossi emperor in Upper Volta or the Muslim brotherhoods of Senegal, sometimes possessed such authority over their people that for the sake of easy government the administration had little option but to recognise and work with them. At the centre, the policy created a highly sophisticated indigenous elite who were indeed, in many respects, almost Christopher
Clapham,
Third World Politics    10
 (different
pagination
than
original
text)
   indistinguishable from Frenchmen, and whose privileged position was recognised both legally and politically. French colonies, starting with Senegal in 1851 but not fully until 1945, elected representatives to the National Assembly in Paris. Assimilated citizens could reach high rank in the administration, the best known being Felix Eboue, the black West Indian who declared for the Free French as Governor of Chad in 1940. Even among this tiny band some reaction to assimilation arose, characteristically expressed in the cultural ‘negritude’ of the West Indian Cesaire and the Senegalese Senghor in the 1930s; but the implicit clash between assimilation and the elite’s place in its own society was most intensively raised in northern Vietnam, where the large Catholic population with its ties to French colonialism and the existing administration was forced to take refuge in the south (or in France) after the Communist takeover in 1954. For the British, the idea of assimilation was unthinkable, as a result perhaps partly of a view (derived from Burke rather than from the French revolution) which sees political culture in particularist rather than universalist terms, and partly of a racial exclusiveness which implicitly denied that any of the indigenous peoples of the Empire could ever become really English. The highly Europeanised Asian or African, in a sense the supreme achievement of French imperialism, was the subject of suspicion and stereotyped contempt to the British. The model implicitly followed was that of the British dominions of settlement, Australia, Canada and New Zealand. The ultimate though distant goal, when the colonies were ‘ready’ for it, was independence. One result of this was that the British system was far less centralised than the French. Rather than being directed to a single goal, the colonies were seen as having distinctive characteristics of their own, and as moving at their own pace towards different destinies. The latitude given to the colonial governor was reflected at lower levels, where the British resident or district commissioner was expected to adapt himself to the local culture rather than impose his own. Most distinctive of all was the reliance on indigenous authorities which has come to be known by the general title of ‘indirect rule’. Where traditional polities presented any substantial threat to British control they were dismantled, as in Burma. Where they did not, they were retained, protected, even on occasion created where none had existed before, or painstakingly recreated on ancient models. This system was at its most extreme in India, an administrative patchwork of direct British colonial possessions on the one hand, and ‘native states’ under varying degrees of British tutelage on the other, with their own administrations and such perquisites as the right to issue postage stamps. Some of the same facilities were enjoyed by the rulers of Malay states, while Sarawak was administered as a personal possession by a British Rajah until after the Second World War. In Africa, more rapidly and systematically colonised, there were no such anomalies, but ‘native administrations’ had considerable local powers, and their rulers were important figures in the national politics of, especially, Nigeria and Uganda. Christopher
Clapham,
Third World Politics    11
 (different
pagination
than
original
text)
   This system satisfied many interests. From the viewpoint of the British Treasury, it was cheap; there were far fewer European administrators per head of population in British than in French colonies—one for every 15,000 inhabitants in British Nigeria in the 1930s, for example, against one for every 4,000 in neighbouring French West Africa, though even there the ‘white line’ of the administration was extremely thin. It appealed to the strong deferential element in British political culture. It naturally pleased the native rulers themselves. And in some degree, it moderated the impact of alien rule upon their people. The people to whom it had least to offer were the city dwellers and especially the educated elite—those ‘rootless elements’ which colonial administration regarded so warily—and from this viewpoint it is scarcely surprising that anticolonial agitation generally arose much earlier in British than in French colonies. The indirect rule system did not operate everywhere. In the Caribbean there was no traditional authority to maintain (save perhaps the slaveowning plantocracy, whose local legislatures were mostly replaced by crown colony government at about the time of emancipation), while in parts of Africa such asTanganyika or South-east Nigeria the local political traditions were scarcely conducive to indirect rule, despite the administration’s attempts to introduce it. Even where it did exist, moreover, the indirect ruler was in a very different position from the independent ruler he succeeded. He could be deposed by government, sometimes after petitions by his own people (in Sierra Leone, cannibalism was discovered to be a particularly efficacious charge to bring against unpopular rulers); more often, sustained in power as an instrument of colonial government, he could escape from traditional constraints on his government and rule less acountably than before. In either case, he had degenerated into a middleman between his subjects and his superiors. The Non‐colonial States  The territories in Africa and Asia which escaped direct colonial rule (there were none in the Americas) took on much of the colouring of a colonial state with an indigenous ruling elite. They negotiated fixed boundaries with their colonial neighbours, set up western-style institutions (which often perpetuated traditional patterns of government beneath a European façade), and started to establish both the communications systems and the economic structures characteristic of colonial rule. Since these states (as in Thailand, Iran or Ethiopia) were usually the heirs of ancient political entities, they carried forward a conscious sense of national identity which was strengthened by the incalculable moral advantage of running their own government, of not being dispossessed by an alien regime. And since their rulers relied on the support they could raise within their own society, rather than on force derived from overseas, they were generally (save for peripheral peoples sometimes ruthlessly incorporated in the process of state consolidation) Christopher
Clapham,
Third World Politics    12
 (different
pagination
than
original
text)
   less disruptive than colonialism of existing social values and institutions. These rulers, however, soon emerged as modernising autocrats rather than traditional monarchs. Strong central leadership was the essential requirement both for staving off an external colonialism and for internal state-building. Very often a traditional monarchical form disguised a thrusting autocrat who had risen from the ranks like the first Pahlevi Shah of Iran in 1925, or from the provincial aristocracy like Menilek of Ethiopia in 1889 and his successor Haile Selassie in 1916. Saudi Arabia was in effect newly created by a single man, Ibn Saud, in the 1920s. Central monarchical power was then strengthened by privileged access to external technology, especially armaments. Often very effective at handling the process of state consolidation, these monarchical regimes were (save perhaps in Thailand where the ing was removed from direct political power as early as 1932) very much less capable of handling the later demands for political participation which arose t
More Less

Related notes for POLI 227

Log In


OR

Join OneClass

Access over 10 million pages of study
documents for 1.3 million courses.

Sign up

Join to view


OR

By registering, I agree to the Terms and Privacy Policies
Already have an account?
Just a few more details

So we can recommend you notes for your school.

Reset Password

Please enter below the email address you registered with and we will send you a link to reset your password.

Add your courses

Get notes from the top students in your class.


Submit