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Sunday
, March 31, 2002
Books

What Subalterns do to history
Rumina Sethi

Mapping Subaltern Studies and the Postcolonial.
edited by Vinayak Chaturvedi, Verso, London and New York. Pages xix + 364. $ 20.

Mapping Subaltern Studies and the PostcolonialPOSTCOLONIAL Studies and the Subaltern are provocative subjects for many reactionary traditionalist academics who pronounce death upon it (and upon its practitioners!) while subterraneously delving into it themselves and often engaging in the gutless act of anonymous crusades against its adherents. That it, and we, are far from dead is amply seen in the plethora of books written in these areas. Verso has come out recently with several edited volumes of the ‘Mapping’ series: Ideology, Nation, Women’s movement to name a few. Vinayak Chaturvedi’s Mapping Subaltern Studies is a desirable addition to the collection. The word ‘subaltern’ emerged with Gramsci of course, but its significance in the context of historiography was initiated to counter an elite methodology. The Subaltern Studies group of historians was instituted to check elite records, in fact, all forms of patriarchy starting from colonial history to the oppression of women. The word ‘subaltern’, in turn, which originally had the connotations of lower rank and inferiority began to underscore feminist politics, postcolonialism and cultural studies. Subalternity became synonymous with the ‘politics of the people’ who for the first time got the feel of being active agents of their own history—-on paper at least.

 


By 1986, the historical materialism approach appeared too limited for a study that sought to ‘contest Eurocentric, metropolitan and bureaucratic systems of knowledge’. This was a postmodernist turn which created two groups: one still loyal to the ‘history from below’ model and the other far more radical, exploring and debunking the ‘myth of origins’ characteristic of the former. Many would remember Gayatri Spivak’s collaboration with Ranajit Guha for the Selected Subaltern Studies volume which reflected the shift. Spivak’s seminal essay ‘Subaltern Studies: Deconstructing Historiography’ was timely in not only critiquing the purist aspect of peasant consciousness but also in foregrounding issues of gender. Spivak also posed the very valid question, ‘Can the Subaltern Speak?’ This indicated that the subaltern was a problematic category that occupied a variety of speaking positions and thus could not be identified. ‘Subalternspeak’, in other words, is an amalgam of dominant discourses as much as dissenting voices.

Ranajit Guha’s early essay ‘On Some Aspects of the Historiography of Colonial India’ from the first volume of Subaltern Studies sets the tone for this collection of essays by tracing the roots of Indian nationalism in the colonial enterprise. Guha states that both of the above are elite movements, involving a collaborative intent which leaves out the workers and the peasants from their own history. Not all cases of ‘history’, however, witnessed such rupture: the elite and the subaltern often worked together to produce successful struggle but when devoid of elite leadership, the subaltern initiatives were not powerful enough to proceed unaided. Following Guha, Partha Chatterjee also seeks to recover a ‘real history’ in order to give us ‘a glimpse of that undominated region in peasant consciousness.’

The exaltation of the peasantry which is part of much subaltern theorising and from where it derives its stimulus is paradoxically based on the ideology of the uncorrupted but voiceless native used by the nationalist intelligentsia. By escaping modernity and Enlightenment, the peasantry remain outside discourse-making, thereby, quite justly, getting alloyed with unadulterated and pristine reality. In fact, orientalist, nationalist, marxist, subalternists, and poststructuralists, have all, in their own celebratory or benevolent ways, used the disenfranchised subproletariat in their works. Thus slogans like ‘garibi hatao’ may be a site of enunciation for both nationalist and subaltern groups. What is useful in poststructuralist practices, however, is that subaltern identities are imbued with heterogeneity, thus splitting open an authoritarian and definitive nationalism, and a continuing neo-colonialism.

The next few essays are pretty basic but lucid—David Arnold links subalternity to its Gramscian origins and also notes a disengagement in terms of Indian politics; Raj Chandavarkar traces the impact of E. P. Thompson on the Indian working class; Rosalind O’Hanlon’s essay is also very much in the tradition of interrogating an ongoing humanism. Chris Bayly’s contribution is more critical. For him, simply to emphasise the autonomy of the peasantry is not helpful in specifying the nature of historical change, for ‘every subaltern (is) an elite to someone lower than him.’ Excepting David Arnold, the above are historians from Cambridge.

Then follows the animated debate between Gyan Prakash and O’Hanlon/David Washbrook which, to my mind, is the best part of the book. This acerbic war of words took place a decade ago in the pages of the journal Comparative Studies in History and Society. For Prakash, any attempt at writing third-world history is exceedingly naïve because of the inevitability of essentialist traps. Our best hope for anti-foundational history, therefore, is to use post-structuralism and postmodernist methodology that would enable us to ‘treat the third world as a variety of shifting principles’ and indicate the limits of historical knowledge. O’Hanlon and Washbrook, as is usual with them, polemically contend that Prakash relies too much on the demolition-man Derrida, that totalising history does not mean that difference and resistance have been overlooked, and that an engagement with events is necessary before any conclusions can be stated. It goes to Chaturvedi’s credit that he also includes Prakash’s flippant rejoinder to the duo’s desire for an untainted, contradiction-free ‘mastery over ambivalence’ by calling them ‘hasty, simplistic and even ill-informed’.

The other essays by Sumit Sarkar, Dipesh Chakrabarty, Gyanendra Pandey all deserve a mention, but in terms of the transformative politics of the Subaltern collective towards a post-Marxist stance. Their essays show how new readings of postcolonial theory (under the patronage of Edward Said and the US academy) have begun to impinge upon the marxist critique that had informed the Subaltern Studies project so far. The interview with Gayatri Spivak seeks to define a ‘new’ subaltern but the ‘newness’ is lost in the obscurity of her prose.

One does have a question for Chaturvedi: why did he leave out Shahid Amin whose ‘Gandhi as Mahatma’ would have served as an excellent example of peasant politics independent of elite manoeuvre. But the editor’s rationale behind the selection has been to choose pieces which represent the theoretical shift in the subaltern approach and which could serve as a ‘companion collection’ for those readers who are already familiar with the volumes of Subaltern Studies.