Methodologies
Case studies in globalisation and imperialism
Chapter 7: Actually existing postcolonialisms: colonial urbanism and architecture after the postcolonial turn1
The internal mental structures of colonial power outlive their epoch. Habits of thought, from the most inconsequential practices of everyday life through to the most highly formalized systems of philosophical abstraction, still reproduce inherited and often unseen colonial mentalities.
(Bill Schwartz âActually existing postcolonialismâ 2000:16)
INTRODUCTION
In this chapter I focus quite narrowly on what is represented as âactually existingâ postcolonial urbanism and architecture as well as âactually existingâ postcolonial writing on this topic. In both cases, of course, these are textual representations â but as representations donât exist independently of the material realities they attempt to represent, I will not labour this point here.
At what was possibly the first conference or workshop to be held on âColonial Citiesâ over 30 years ago my paper concluded with the following statement: âWhat my unilateral viewâ (on the colonial city) âhas underplayed is the contribution of the indigenous society and culture. The next book on âcolonialâ or âex-colonialâ cities might come from representatives of those cities themselvesâ (King, 1985:27).2 I did not imply at that time, nor do I here, that âlocationâ should be treated as an âessenceâ which, irrespective of other factors, would give the indigenous inhabitants of the one-time colonial city a privileged insight. As Young writes in his book, Postcolonialism (2001),
Nowadays, no one really knows where an author âisâ when they read a book, apart from guarded information about institutional affiliation on the dust jacket, and nor should it matter. The difference is less a matter of geography than where individuals locate themselves as speaking from, epistemologically, politically, culturally and politically, who they are speaking to and how they define their own enunciative space
(Young 2001:62)
While I would, in principle, agree with this, it is also the case that, generally speaking, it is statistically more likely that members of the one-time colonised society (rather than that of the coloniser) are not only fluent in the colonial as well as the national language, but possibly also in local and regional languages of the one-time colonised state. They may also have better knowledge of (if not always access to) local sources. Exactly where scholars do their research, where they write it up, and the intellectual, social, political, cultural and other environments which influence their subjective identities may have more or less importance. Hence, while accepting Youngâs statement, I have in the following account nevertheless aimed to identify interpretations which are not only recent but also produced primarily by indigenous scholars from the one-time colonised society.
The works I address here fall into one or both of two categories. First, postcolonial studies of contemporary or near contemporary developments in postcolonial cities which have a particular focus on urban space and form, socio-spatial structure and aspects of architectural design. The second category, what I shall call âpostcolonial writingsâ, are accounts by scholars who, in giving agency and voice to the (historically) once-colonised, are both contesting and re-writing the history, geography and architecture of the one-time colonial city or âcolonial urbanismâ broadly conceived. In either case, scholars might be located, permanently or temporarily, in the post colony, post metropolis, any other part of the anglophonic postcolonial empire (e.g. USA, Australia, Canada, Singapore or elsewhere). Though the majority of the accounts refer to South and Southeast Asia, this chapter by no means attempts to be comprehensive. Its purpose is rather to foreground some questions raised in the accounts and ask about conditions that gave raise to their production.
POSTCOLONIAL URBANISM: KOLKATA, DELHI, MUMBAI
If one of the most pressing analytical questions is to see âwhat the colonial and the postcolonial have done to each otherâ (Kusno 2000), the next is to ask what the global is doing to the postcolonial, and vice versa. This is addressed by Sanjoy Chakravorty in âFrom colonial city to globalizing city? The far-from-complete spatial transformation of Kolkataâ (Chakravorty 2000).
As with other studies, urban geographer Chakravorty nests his analysis of the spatial structure of Calcutta in a three-phase frame of political economic development: colonial economy during the first global period; postcolonial (or command) economy during a nationalist period; and reform economy during the second global period (ibid.:57). He makes a number of assertions. That while the colonial city was âdeeply dividedâ between colonisers and natives it âwould be wrong to assume that this spatial division was strictly enforcedâ (p.65). Nonetheless, the thrust of his argument is to show that âthis basic structure, created in the eighteenth century, still dominates the spatial pattern of work and home in the cityâ (p.66). With independence in 1947, âthe spatial divisions of the colonial city (demarcated by class and race barriers) were largely retained, with the native upper class (capital and land owners, political leaders and top government officials) now occupying the privileged space once occupied by the colonizersâ (p.67). The new (postcolonial) space retained much of this inheritance with the race divisions being replaced by class divisions with some residential segregation by occupation, religion, caste and ethnicity continued into the postcolonial period.
With the coming of the ânewâ economy and the âpost-reform cityâ, a more significant change has taken place in Indian society, where there is increasing (and more acceptable) social, cultural, and technological polarization (p.70) with new town projects, and an expanded international airport, though with these new towns, âcoloniesâ named after specific corporations (e.g. AVB colony, MAMC colony), apparently following well-worn (colonial) Public Works Department practices.
Concluding that Kolkataâs spatial structure âcannot be separated from its political economic historyâ (p.72) Chakravorty states that it is quite different from its more colonial counterparts, âthe more segregated, hierarchical, monolingual Chennai (Madras) or the dynamic, polyglot, recently chauvinistic Mumbaiâ. Unlike Mumbai and Delhi, Kolkata has not been plagued by communal riots and âthe bourgeois planning apparatus has worked and continues for the benefit of the upper classesâ (p.74).
Chakravortyâs analysis might be fairly characterised as a straightforward political economic narrative. Another recent paper on a similar topic, though in this case referring to Delhi, demonstrates that postcolonial analysis can be more political. Cultural geographers Chatterjee and Kenny (1999) argue that, despite five decades of independence, attempts to bridge the vast spatial, social, economic and infrastructural inequities, as well as religious, cultural and lifestyle differences, between old and new Delhi, the legacy of hegemonic colonial planning, and create a single capital symbolising the unity and identity of the nation, have yet to be resolved. In offering reasons for this, the authors point to the essential ambiguities of the postcolonial: the fact that âthe replacement of previous hierarchies of space, power and knowledge has not been completeâ; âMuslim, Hindu and western socio-cultural norms co-exist, albeit uneasily, in Delhiâs built environmentâ (p.96). Multiple identities produce a multiplicity of spatialities.
While the book Bombay: The Cities Within (1995), by architect Rahul Mehrotra and journalist Sharada Dwivedi, is clearly about colonial and postcolonial Bombay (since 1996, officially known, in a consciously postcolonial gesture, by its precolonial name of Mumbai), the narrative does not take a politically conscious postcolonial position, as implied in Sidawayâs second interpretation of that term. The treatment of the historical evolution of the built environment of Mumbai is treated even-handedly, without any particular reference to the power hegemonies, and even apolitically. The book âlooks at the city with a sense of nostalgia while also with the intention of portraying aspects of the past that have continued relevance in terms of ⌠approaches to the physical forms that result from theseâŚ.â The book treats urban form as âthe text of the cityâ (p.6). As the Introduction begins by stating that âBombay was not an indigenous city but was built by the British expressly for maintaining trade links with Indiaâ (p.9) the colonial presence is taken for granted, a fait accompli, not worth contesting. Whether writing of the many ancient as well as more recent Hindu shrines, sacred tanks, Buddhist temples, Muslim mosques, Moghul palaces or British colonial administrative, commercial or government buildings, all are treated as resources or heritage and not as material objects on which to exercise a cultural or socio-political critique. There is no large ideological divide or difference read into the activities and policies of city planners before or after 1947. As the authors have a deep commitment to urban design and conservation, every building, every space, is regarded as a neutral, unpoliticised historical and aesthetic resource. âTodayâ, they write, âthe cityâs image comprises of strange yet familiar juxtapositions â a roadside Hindu shrine abuts St Thomasâs Cathedral, chimney stacks are dwarfed by skyscrapers, fishing villages and slums nestle at the foot of luxury apartments, and bazaars occupy the Victorian arcadesâ (p.309). In âOne space, Two Worldsâ, the social (and also urban design) critique is reserved for the major force which is seen to have impacted and dominated the city in the last four decades, âdistress migrationâ. Only at this point is there a passing reference to the potential of colonial power:
Undoubtedly, the urban poor as well as rural migrants have always formed an identifiable element among urban developments in Mumbai. However, formerly under colonial rule their direct contact with, and influence on the city was very limited, both worlds lived in different spaces. Today, the city is clearly comprised of different worlds ⌠but (they) are also united by their sheer physical presence in the city. But in the proposals by city authorities, thereâs âa sense of induced dualismâ which relegates the homeless poor to the periphery.
POSTCOLONIAL SUBURBS: THE METAMORPHOSIS OF THE BUNGALOW
Where the previous articles address the spatial and social forms of the city, the following three speak, at least initially, to the architectural and social form of the building, not least the distinctively colonial product, the bungalowâcompound complex (King 1976; 1984), and also to the suburban spatial forms its parameters help to construct. In more than five decades following Independence, how do Indian (and other) scholars see what has happened to both the idea, and reality, of the sprawling colonial bungalow, its expansive, space-consuming suburban setting, its role as a symbol of status, and, not least, its significance as a subject of scholarly investigation? The answer depends, to different degrees, on where the postcolonial bungalows are, to whom they belong (public or private) and who are occupying them.
Anita Sinhaâs essays on âThe Bungalows of Lucknowâ (1999) traces âcontinuities and changes in the Lucknow cantonment from the colonial to the postcolonial eraâ. She concludes that âthe landscape retains its colonial image in large part because it is governed by the zoning regulations and bylaws of a century agoâ. Despite alterations to the bungalows to meet the needs of the extended Indian families who live in some of them, she suggests that âthe continuity of colonial imagery in the post-colonial era implies the internalization of colonial values by planners and residents of the cantonmentâ (p.57).
Like other cantonments in India, that at Lucknow was a major constituent part of the âcolonial landscape of powerâ â physically manifest in its spatial separation from the indigenous city and segregation according to racial group and military rank. However, because the cantonment depended heavily on Indian manpower (for servants) and financial resources, âthe separation was never completeâ. The continuity of colonial values is largely attributed to the fact that today Lucknow cantonment forms the headquarters of the Central Command of the Indian army with almost one-third of its population consisting of army personnel. Though the names of Indian politicians and army generals name the streets and a dozen Hindu temples (also a gurdwara and mosque) have been constructed, Lucknow cantonment âhas not seen any drastic changes in the half century since independenceâ (p.57). Despite the persistence of the typical colonial social maldistribution of space, with 90 per cent of the cantonment population living on 7 per cent of the land, the two bodies responsible for the cantonment manage it according to the (colonial) Cantonment Act of 1924, their âconceptual framework ⌠shaped by colonial ideasâ (p.58). Sinha quotes a senior military official: âbungalow area is seen as sacrosanct ⌠land cannot be carved out of it to accommodate the civilian population of the bazaarsâ (p.58). Sinhaâs interviews with residents of 15 bungalows, undertaken in the 1990s, reveal interesting differences between civilian owners and army officers. While the Cantonment Board forbids modifications exceeding 10 per cent of the structure, civilian owners had adapted the bungalowâs internal space to accommodate extended family needs (in one case, rooms being divided up among seven siblings). Owing to the ever-increasing costs of servants (between 10 and 20 of whom maintained the extensive spaces of the bungalow in colonial times), maintaining the bungalows and compounds (from one to five acres in area) was a major problem. On the other hand, senior army officers and wealthy civilians kept their bungalows in good colonial style: lawns to the front, orchards at the rear, occasionally a bar for evening parties at the back, the occasional badminton court. On average, according to Sinha, each compound had 30â40 mature trees.
Sinha maintains that the colonial bungalow âhas had a profound impact on Indian residential architectureâ. It was adopted by the Indian elite in the last century and the new housing in the post-Independence era shows its influence ⌠(even though) âthe adoption of its form has never been totalâ (p.61). She cites a study of a new residential enclave in south Delhi inhabited by retired officers of the ICS and the military as âa representation of colonialism in a decolonized spaceâ. The âcolonyâ is governed by by-laws that do not permit parking and vending on its tree-lined streets. Similar middle class and upper-income developments have occurred in other Indian cities (p.62).
Interestingly, Sinha states that, in Lucknow, half a century after Independence, âthere are no signs of a post-colonial sensibility with regard to planning the physical environmentâ (p.62). Though no longer âovertly a symbol of the Other or representative of its cultural hegemony, the cantonmentâs image âspeaks of the pastâ. It âsustains colonial traditions of social inequalitiesâ previously between Europeans and Indians, now between the âwealthy and lower income Indiansâ. The future of the cantonment and its bungalows, Sinha concludes, is âdependent on the militaryâs ability to support its resource-intensive infrastructureâ (p.62).
If Sinha (as an architectural and landscape historian) highlights the larger structural, institutional,...