When We Were Champions: Nation Building, Hockey and the Anglo-Indian Community of Calcutta
September 15, 2015
September 15, 2015
September 15, 2015
“Voices from the Sylff Community” is a special section of the Sylff website featuring articles by Sylff fellows about their academic and social-engagement activities. Fellows can also share their analysis of or perspectives on global and grassroots issues. The Tokyo Foundation hopes that many more of you will submit articles to this site and create greater synergies among the fellows.
For the fellows who would like to write a “Voices” article, we have posted the General Guidelines for Writing a “Voices” Article on the Sylff website. Please read the instructions carefully and submit all requested data.
If you have any questions, please feel free to contact the Tokyo Foundation at any time. We look forward to hearing from you and receiving your article!
Leadership Development, Tokyo Foundation
Email: leadership[a]tkfd.or.jp (replace [a] with @)
September 8, 2015
Lindsey Lim, a recipient of a Sylff fellowship at Columbia University in 2014, revisited the Tokyo Foundation on June 4, 2015, to give a presentation on the findings of an ongoing social action project in Philippines that promotes financial inclusion, called the Kasambahay Savings Project. This was a follow-up on a presentation she gave at the Foundation in January. Lim is a dual degree student at Columbia University and the University of Tokyo.
She initiated and currently directs the project in cooperation with BPI, which targets full-time domestic workers (kasambahay in Filipino) who live in the homes of their employers. The project helps these workers to open saving accounts—which less than a third of the adult population have in the Philippines—and receive a broader range of financial services.
She made some intriguing discoveries regarding the saving behavior of project participants by analyzing the transactions in 160 accounts over the last six months. Lim found that kasambahay were able to save money despite their low income and that there was no remarkable correlation between people’s saving behavior and their age or education. She also found that having a bank account enables them to buy health insurance.
Lim with her classmates and Mari Suzuki, left, director for leadership development at the Tokyo Foundation
Many kasambahay have expressed their gratitude to Lim for launching this project, which promotes financial literacy among kasambahay and enables them to send money safely back to their families in the countryside.
Lim had an opportunity to present a summary of her project and its findings before representatives of 16 Philippines commercial banks. Many banks were made aware of the needs of the kasambahay, who are valuable members of society, and two commercial banks—RCBC and the Philippine Veteran’s Bank—expressed an interest in enabling domestic workers to open accounts at their branches. The next phase of the Kasambahay Savings Project will be implemented with the help of an SLI award and in cooperation with the two commercial banks. In the future, she also hopes to develop a new service that entitles kasambahay to buy insurance in conjunction with their savings account.
The Tokyo Foundation wishes her great success in her future pursuits.
September 5, 2015
Marisa Hamamoto, a 2007 Sylff fellowship recipient at Keio University, has launched Infinite Flow, America’s first professional wheelchair ballroom dance company. It is a 501(c)3 nonprofit organization that seeks to share the power of dance and performance with physically challenged individuals.
Hamamoto has been passionate about ballet and contemporary dance since childhood, prompting her to study the biomechanics of dancing as well as dance educational policy for her master’s degree at Keio. While a student, however, she was diagnosed with spinal cord infarction, a severe neurological disease that left her paralyzed from the neck down. Her passion for dance, though, gave her the strength and energy to combat and entirely recover from her illness.
Today, she is a professional ballroom dancer and teaches dance full-time. Her personal experience with overcoming a debilitating disease provided the motivation for the establishment of Infinite Flow as a way of sharing her passion and love for dancing with those with physically disabilities.
Click on the link below to read an interview with Hamamoto that was published in Rafu Shimpo, the largest English-Japanese bilingual newspaper in the United States.
http://www.rafu.com/2015/05/the-power-of-dance/.
September 1, 2015
By 19667
How does “oil money” shape a city? ThienVinh Nguyen, a Sylff fellowship recipient at Columbia University now enrolled in a doctoral program at University College London, used an SRA grant to observe how profits from oil are spent for the “development” of a port city in Ghana. During her eight-month-long research in the city, she saw oil companies spend enormous amounts on infrastructure development. Her report raises the question of who are the real beneficiaries of such spending.
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Even without oil, we are doing so well . . . with oil as a shot in the arm, we're going to fly. . . . Oil is money, and we need money to do the schools, the roads, and the hospitals. If you find oil, you manage it well, can you complain about that?
—–Ghanaian President John Kufuor, June 2007
Many of Ghana’s offshore oil fields are located in the Western Region, whose capital is Sekondi-Takoradi. Image courtesy of Hufstader/Oxfam America, 2008
After a century of minor oil discoveries, in 2007 President John Kufuor announced that Ghana had discovered commercial quantities of oil in the Jubilee Fields off the coast of Sekondi-Takoradi. The International Monetary Fund estimates that oil and gas revenues from the Jubilee Fields alone could earn the Ghanaian government a cumulative $20 billion between 2012 and 2030, a figure that certainly makes an impact in Ghana’s national budget (Gary, Manteaw, and Armstrong 2009).
The question on everyone’s mind was: Will this be a blessing or a curse? Indeed, oil has been regarded by some as a dark, evil, corrupting resource. My research moves beyond this stereotype to explore the nuances of how the emergence of an oil industry transforms a city. Sekondi-Takoradi continues to change, as do cities all over the world, but the oil boom and the narratives around it enable new, ambitious, and fantastical development-driven visions for the city.
At the same time, we see an increase in citizens advocating for basic amenities and provisions—water, sanitation, electricity, and education—which the city has been slow to deliver in spite of the scale of oil-driven developments. Three major development projects are being promoted: the construction of a luxury shopping mall, the renovation of urban roads, and the expansion of Takoradi Port.
There is a small mention of the need for a mall in the current draft of the city’s development plan, and a South African developer has proposed the construction of a mall valued at between $65 million and $90 million (Ampratwum-Mensah 2015). Even though the local government and some residents support the project—seeing it as a sign of “modern progress”—others believe that there should also be a focus on ensuring that local citizens have access to basic services and provisions. Even with its supporters, however, the mall project has faced serious challenges. For one thing, the developers had to seek the support of the mayor, local government officials, and the police force to relocate the auto mechanics who had been “illegally” operating on the land. Some argue that these mechanics created a thriving local economy, while the developer and others say the mall will create new jobs and new public spaces.
Another development focus has been on roads. Roads are particularly helpful in getting political parties elected. With money from the oil boom, Sekondi-Takoradi has been improving its roads, especially those frequented by oil and gas companies and foreigners. The Jubilee Partners—the consortium of oil companies operating on the Jubilee Fields—also paid for the renovation of a roundabout they use frequently. A number of civil society organizations that I interviewed mentioned that while the paving of roads is welcome, the city is prioritizing development based on aesthetics that serves particular privileged groups, rather than meeting such community needs as water, sanitation, and electricity.
Sekondi-Takoradi, like many other cities, is going through change, where the new and old converge and where different visions of development affect everyday life and the urban form of the city. (Photo by ThienVinh Nguyen, 2015)
Sekondi-Takoradi has historically been and continues to be an important port, shaped by the shipments of resource minerals through the city. Currently, Ghana is investing heavily into the Takoradi Port Expansion Project, with the first and second phases of the project budgeted at well over US$300 million. Financing comes in the form of loans: €197 million from KBC Bank N.V. and about US$176 million from the China Development Bank (“Takoradi Port Expansion: Breakwater Nears Completion” 2014). A core feature of this expansion project is catering to the needs of oil and gas companies, including the creation of an oil storage area. This impressive expansion project will continue to shape the city, with new mineral wealth flowing in and out of the city.
Amidst heightened economic activity and growing possibilities, President Kufuor and other politicians—including US Presidents George W. Bush and Barack Obama, who have both made visits to Ghana—promote the idea of hope and economic prosperity in the light of the oil discoveries, juxtaposing the promise in Ghana with narratives about weak states and the resource curse in Africa. These expectations are embedded in a context where Ghana is seen as a potential exemplar African state, capable of moving beyond the “tragedy” of resource mismanagement by continuing on its path as an international-investor-friendly, democratic nation. Citizens recognize that oil is a valuable commodity (despite declining oil prices) and that perhaps it has the potential to transform the income trajectory of all Ghanaians.
Over eight months in Ghana, I conducted interviews with civil society organizations, traditional authorities, Ghanaian government officials at various levels, local businesses, and transnational companies, including oil-related companies from Britain, the United States, France, and South Africa, among others. Although China provided the Ghanaian government with a $3 billion loan to build natural gas infrastructure (see: Mohan 2010), I learned through my interviews that most of the money was spent outside of the city: in building a major ECOWAS (Economic Community of West African States) highway and constructing the infrastructure for a natural gas pipeline farther west on the coast. There were also proposed Chinese-coordinated projects in the city, though, in the form of road works and improving the railway system.
In addition to interviews with these stakeholders, I also analyzed various strategic plans for the city over time, including plans financed by oil companies, 20 years’ worth of development plans drafted by the local government, and plans developed by local nongovernmental organizations. Given all these emergent developments, which affect the structure and social landscape of the city, there has been an increased focus on the creation of spatial development plans for the city.
I argue that the process of formulating these plans opens up new opportunities for public engagement and forms of governance. The local government plans have certainly become more ambitious and in-depth, requiring much bigger budgets, following the discovery of oil. Indeed, the major oil company in the city has a field representative in the district assembly who attends the planning meetings. These plans—more so than in the past—serve as strategic tools for garnering donor support and private investment. Indeed, even those cynical of whether these plans will ever be implemented realize that the plans have mobilized a broad range of voices in shaping the future of the city. While implementation may be slow, they do affect the direction and structure of the city.
With a population of 560,000 in a country of 24 million, Sekondi-Takoradi consists of the twin cities of Sekondi and Takoradi and is the capital of the Western Region (Wilde, Adams, and English 2013). This region is known for its rich resources—timber, bauxite, gold, and diamonds, and now, offshore oil and gas. Sekondi-Takoradi lies on the transport route to Kumasi and Accra—thriving cities that are the capitals in their respective regions, with Accra serving also as the capital of the country.
In this vein, this city, as is the case for all cities, is a site of territorialized economic development, given its dependency on natural resources and its role as a major port for Ghana. It has been integrated into the global supply chain, where international capital flows in and out of the city. Now, the Ghana central government insists that oil production will bring the city and country unprecedented wealth. Narratives about the potential for growth highlight how the city will be “one of the modern cities of the world,” with “skyscrapers, six-lane highways and malls” (Walker 2011).
The central market area of Takoradi, where old, colonial-style buildings (on the left) are juxtaposed with the new Ecobank building on the right. (Photo by ThienVinh Nguyen, 2015)
I asked all of my interviewees how the city has changed. Some commented on how there has not been enough change and that money has not “trickled down”—meaning that they would welcome further social and infrastructural development and that the city is still very much lacking. There remain “slum areas,” with many residents lacking access to water, sanitation, and electricity. With regard to electricity, despite having offshore oil and gas, Ghana is undergoing an energy crisis, where the load shedding schedule is 24-hours off/24-hours on.
The city’s central Market Circle consists of an organized, though seemingly chaotic, indoor and outdoor market areas, where one can find practically anything: from live animals and produce to cheap imported goods. This area, though, lacks proper plumbing and trash collection—despite the fact that vendors here pay fees to the city for being there.
Others contend that the city has indeed changed, for better and for worse. With more foreigners in the city, rents and food prices have gone up, and there is increased road congestion. There are large, newly built villas, hotels, and bank buildings in the city. While a public school teacher or taxi driver makes less than US$300 a month, monthly rents for a three-bedroom house in the wealthier neighborhoods range from $2,000 to $5,000.
Given the myriad development issues facing Sekondi-Takoradi, the question is not if change will take place but how, at what rate, and who will benefit from this oil boom.
Ampratwum-Mensah, Akwasi. 2015. “EPA Holds Public Hearing on Proposed Takoradi Mall.” Accessed May 30. http://graphic.com.gh/news/general-news/43877-epa-holds-public-hearing-on-proposed-takoradi-mall.html.
Gary, Ian, Steve Manteaw, and Clive Armstrong. 2009. “Ghana’s Big Test: Oil’s Challenge to Democratic Development.” Oxfam America. Ghana Statistical Service. 2014. “Gross Domestic Product 2014.”
Ghana Statistical Service. www.statsghana.gov.gh/docfiles/GDP/GDP_2014.pdf.
Hufstader, Chris. 2008. “The Coming Oil Boom in Ghana.” Oxfam America. October 1. http://www.oxfamamerica.org/explore/stories//the-coming-oil-boom-in-ghana/.
Mohan, Giles. 2010. China in Ghana: Easing the Shift from Aid Dependency to Oil Economy?(ARI). Real Instituto Elcano. http://biblioteca.ribei.org/1965/1/ARI-149-2010-I.pdf.
“Takoradi Port Expansion: Breakwater Nears Completion.” 2014. May 16. http://www.ghanaweb.com/GhanaHomePage/business/artikel.php?ID=309576.
Walker, Rob. 2011. “Oil Boom Changes Face of Ghana City.” BBC, March 8, sec. Africa. http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-africa-12646359.
Wilde, Alberto, Ishmael Adams, and Brian English. 2013. “Fueling the Future of an Oil City: A Tale of Sekondi-Takoradi in Ghana.” Global Communities. http://www.globalcommunities.org/publications/2013-ghana-fueling-the-future-of-an-oil-city.pdf.
August 15, 2015
August 6, 2015
By 19596
This research is focused on the contested history of popular print culture in Bengal, India. Printing technology arrived in Bengal in the late eighteenth century, and the first Bengali books printed with movable type were translation of Christian tracts published under the aegis of the Baptist Missionaries of Serampore.
Although printing was at first controlled by the colonial authorities and the native elite, this “foreign” technology was quickly embraced by local residents, and a thriving publishing industry took shape in the nascent metropolis of Calcutta (now Kolkata), which soon became the second most important city of the British Empire.
The earliest printers were mostly humanists and scholars, but hack writers and pamphleteers soon entered the market with their cheap, entertaining books and crudely written pamphlets. Their target readers were mostly the newly created middle class and the semi-literate lower middle class.
By the mid-nineteenth century, the popular publishing industry became a headache for the colonial authorities and the native elite alike, who were offended by the bawdy contents of the cheap-print. Soon, they adjudged that the local publishing industry had to be controlled in order to inculcate a sound reading habit amongst Bengalis.1
The title of this chapbook is Bharatmatar Bastraharan (The Disrobing of Mother India). Written during the Second World War, it describes how the general populace suffered due to an acute shortage of clothing material and other essential commodities during the years of conflict. The cover shows a picture of “Mother India” as a poor, yet beautiful woman who is wearing rags since she no longer has enough clothes to cover her body. This chapbook was written by prolific author Nagendranath Das, whose works were frequently banned by the British government.
The cheap publishing industry was first established around Battala in North Calcutta. Although this industry later spread to other parts of the state, the name “Battala” became synonymous with obscene and erotic printed material that soon became the target of the censoring authorities. While the Battala presses were persecuted in the nineteenth century for spreading salacious and corrupting ideas, subsequent historians have pointed out that these books represented the “native cultural elements” that the colonial authorities marginalized as part of their efforts to exercise “bio-political” control over the native mind.2
In the subsequent historiography of popular print culture in Bengal, Battala has been celebrated as the quintessential locale of subversion and resistance. This has also contributed to the rather misleading notion that the cheap publishing industry existed only to defy the elite print culture. While the pioneering work in this field done by such historians as Sukumar Sen, Nikhil Sarkar, Gautam Bhadra, and Sumanta Bandyopadhyay has unearthed a treasure trove of interesting material, it has, in turn, ensured that the books that were not so subversive in nature were buried underneath this “romance of defiance.” And in time, these books mostly vanished from the history of Bengali popular print culture.
My research for the SRA period was focused primarily on unearthing such material—chapbooks and pamphlets on topical events that acted as the conduit of information for the semi-literate readers who were not a part of the information network of the newspapers and periodicals published by the educated elite. During my Sylff Research Abroad in Britain, I endeavored to:
The SRA award allowed me to look for these books in the vast archives of London’s British Library, which was the deposit library of the British Empire. It boasts perhaps the largest collection of nineteenth-century books published within the domains of the empire, and Bengali books were no exception. As a visiting researcher at King’s College London during this period, I also got the chance to speak with scholars and researchers from other institutions, such as the Institute of English Studies and the School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS) at the University of London and Oxford University.
The archival work was done at the Asian and African Studies Collection of the British Library, which houses the complete collection of the India Office Library. Conversations with Mr. Graham Shaw, the doyen of nineteenth century Bengali print culture, gave me crucial directions on the use of the vast archive. The books, on the other hand, presented unique stories, and I saw how natural disasters, scandals, incidents of legal or political importance, and other events were represented in the popular print media. And examination of these books is important for various reasons. First, the notion that the sole function of the Battala presses was to resist the cultural elite suggests that the marginalized print cultures did not have an independent existence. This, though, was far from the case.
Second, these books show that the colonial public sphere was more complicated than it is generally regarded. Nineteenth century chapbooks and pamphlets serve as important windows on the everyday life of colonial Bengal: a sociological examination along these lines has long been pending.
Third, an examination of these documents reveals that the main purpose of popular print culture was the same as that of elite print culture: dissemination of information.
My research during the SRA period was not limited to the study of these books, however. My other aim was to study the India Political Intelligence Department and the Crown Representative’s Records in order to find out how the British Secret Services tracked down seditious literature after the emergence of nationalist movements. Though most of the leading figures of the nationalist movements, both pacifist and extremist, were educated elites, they adopted the chapbook and pamphlet formats for the dissemination of their ideas. Due to the near invisibility and the ephemeral nature of these slender volumes, chapbooks and pamphlets became major carriers of subversive ideas during the period between 1905 and 1947.
The hack writers, in turn, appropriated nationalistic themes to increase the sales of their books, since books written on such themes were very popular. While doing my research in India, I had amassed a vast digital collection of nationalistic pamphlets and chapbooks printed between 1930s 1940s, and I needed to consult the India Office Records at the British Library to access many other similar pamphlets (especially those published between 1905 and 1930) and to examine the records of the Secret Services to understand how the authorities tracked down and persecuted the authors, book sellers, and at times even the readers of these items.
While the colonial authorities exercised stringent censorship to ensure that seditious ideas were not circulated, pamphlets and chapbooks written on nationalistic ideas spread rapidly through private vendors and dedicated revolutionaries, who also doubled as publishers. For this section, my research questions were:
My research was enriched by everything that I studied during this period: chapbooks and pamphlets, legal records, court proceedings, and reports of the Secret Service agents who intercepted letters, followed booksellers, and sent spies to track down the people who distributed seditious materials during one of the most volatile periods in the history of the region.
While studying the pamphlets and chapbooks that described the partition riots and famine,3 I got a chance to read the disturbing memoirs of the English soldiers who were stationed in Calcutta at that time. The intense nature of the documents that I studied often left me greatly distressed, though this was also part of the thrill that is often associated with archival research of this nature. These findings have enabled me to develop a greater understanding of how this rustic information network functioned amongst the economically disenfranchised sectors of society, long before the coming of electronic media that made communication more democratic.
For this opportunity I am grateful to the Tokyo Foundation. The Sylff fellowship and the SRA award enabled me to fulfil the academic potential that my project had. I would also like to thank Professor Clare Pettitt of the King’s College London, Mr. Graham Shaw of the Institute of English Studies, University of London, and Ms. Leena Mitford of the British Library for their kind guidance.
1James Long, Returns Relating to the Publications in the Bengali Language in I857 (Calcutta, 1859) pp. xxiv-xxv
2Bernard S. Cohn, Colonialism and its Forms of Knowledge (New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1996); Deana Heath, Purifying Empire: Obscenity and the Politics of Moral Regulation in Britain, India and Australia (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010).
3The British left India in 1947, marking the successful culmination of half-a-century long freedom struggle that swayed between peaceful marches and spells of armed resistance punctuated with gunfire and bomb blasts. Independence came at a price, though, as the partition of Bengal and Punjab resulted in the greatest human migration in history. This period also witnessed communal riots in various parts of India, especially in Bengal and Punjab, claiming the lives of thousands of people. During the final stages of the Second World War, when the British government was apprehensive of a Japanese invasion from Axis-occupied Burma, they implemented a scorched-earth policy in Bengal Province. This resulted in a massive famine, entirely man-made, that claimed the lives of at least 4 million people.
July 31, 2015
July 31, 2015
July 31, 2015