• Une nouvelle chaire UNESCO en #toponymie_inclusive

    Une équipe internationale, dirigée par l’UNIGE, va travailler sur les questions de #nominations_des_lieux à l’échelle mondiale, en se penchant notamment sur les questions de #genre, de visibilité des #minorités et de #développement_durable.

    Comment les lieux sont-ils nommés dans le monde ? Par qui ? Avec quels enjeux politiques, culturels, sociaux, mémoriels ? Pour répondre à ces questions, une nouvelle chaire UNESCO en toponymie inclusive voit le jour à l’Université de Genève (UNIGE) : « #Dénommer_le_Monde ». Les objectifs ? Rendre visible cette problématique –qui prend actuellement de plus en plus d’ampleur–, en expliquer les mécanismes, créer un espace de dialogue entre les académiques, la société civile et les opérateurs publics et privés, et inventorier de bonnes pratiques et recommandations en la matière. En effet, de ce qui semble n’être qu’une sous-branche de la linguistique découlent de nombreuses problématiques comme la question du genre, la visibilité des minorités, les #langues et #savoirs_autochtones et le rapport à la #colonisation. Durant les quatre prochaines années, l’UNIGE initiera un fonctionnement en Réseaux de partenaires autour de cette chaire, particulièrement avec l’Afrique et l’Europe pour les réseaux académiques, et avec des organisations internationales.

    La toponymie classique est l’étude de l’origine des noms de lieux et de leur évolution à travers le temps. « La toponymie permet la reconstitution archéologique du peuplement et du rapport à l’environnement dans le passé, précise Frédéric Giraut, professeur à la Faculté des sciences de la société de l’UNIGE et directeur de la chaire UNESCO en toponymie inclusive. Encore récemment, des archéologues allemands ont découvert un indicateur de lieu en haute Égypte, qui date de 4000 ans AV.-JC ! »

    Des enjeux de genre et de visibilité des minorités

    Toutefois la toponymie n’est pas que la simple explication et utilisation des #noms_de_lieux. Des enjeux importants découlent de l’étude de sa production contemporaine qui détermine la #visibilité de certaines #mémoires et symboliques dans l’#espace_public, la #signalétique, la #cartographie et les #adresses. « On parle de toponymie inclusive, car la question du genre, de par la sous-représentation des femmes dans le marquage de l’espace public, est patente, tout comme celle des minorités peut l’être dans le marquage de l’espace en général, que cela soit en Occident ou dans les pays au passé colonial », relève Frédéric Giraut. Les recherches menées par les collaborateurs/trices de la chaire UNESCO vont donc s’axer sur la représentation des différentes mémoires, des cultures, des visions du social et de l’espace en favorisant le débat entre les académiques, la société civile et les opérateurs via l’organisation de forums. « Nous allons également traiter les questions de #commémorations et de revendications controversées en analysant les termes des débats, dans leurs dimensions historiques, sociales et éthiques », annonce le chercheur genevois. La chaire va donc s’intéresser aux questions liées aux #mémoires_collectives et à leurs contradictions éventuelles. Dans quelles conditions le nom est-il consensuel ou conflictuel ? Différentes mémoires peuvent-elles être présentes simultanément et comment ? Ces questions se retrouvent dans des contextes et à des échelles très différentes, et relèvent du choix et de la reconnaissance des langues et des références historiques, culturelles et politiques.

    #Toponymie_officielle contre #toponymie_vernaculaire

    Autre problématique soulevée par la chaire UNESCO en toponymie inclusive : l’#adressage. « Dans les pays dits en développement, principalement, des quartiers entiers de villes sont construits indépendamment d’une autorité officielle, qui tente a posteriori d’organiser ces ‘villes informelles’ par un système de repérage fondé sur les numérotations de parcelles et de noms de rues », explique Frédéric Giraut. Mais cette logique se heurte à une organisation vernaculaire qui elle, emploie ses propres noms de repères vécus dans la vie de tous les jours, créant des tensions entre les politiques publiques et les habitant-es des quartiers et multipliant les systèmes antagoniques.

    De manière plus générale, s’interroger sur les politiques officielles sera l’occasion d’analyser quels noms sont retenus et pourquoi, notamment vis-à-vis de la #marchandisation de certains noms de lieux, vendu ou loué, ou du #marketing_territorial. Il s’agit d’aller de l’observation du processus contemporain de la nomination à l’analyse rétrospective grâce à des sources de nature diverses qui relèvent de la cartographie, des archives, de la presse ou des systèmes d’information géographique.

    Le glissement de la toponymie cartographiée du public au privé

    Qui dit toponymie, dit cartographie. « Assurée par les autorités étatiques, d’abord militaires puis civiles, la cartographie de détails a vu des acteurs privés, comme le géant Google ou les entreprises de #GPS embarqués, s’instaurer comme références majeures pour les utilisateurs », relève Frédéric Giraut. A cela s’ajoute la cartographie participative, qui permet à tout un chacun de contribuer à la cartographie de détail du monde, notamment grâce à OpenStreetMap. Ces différents #systèmes_d’information_géographique constituent autant de cartographies du monde, parfois en contradiction. « L’intérêt de ces cartes ‘non-officielles’, mais dont les usages sont généralisés, est qu’elles permettent de faire jaillir des #quartiers_informels, invisibles sur les cartes étatiques, promouvant des toponymies vernaculaires et alternatives », s’enthousiasme le géographe.

    Un partenariat international

    Pour traiter ces problématiques, un consortium académique sera mobilisé en démarrant par la formalisation d’un réseau existant à deux échelles : mondiale d’une part, en fédérant les spécialistes et leurs équipes situés sur tous les continents ainsi que les Organisations internationales intéressées, et africaine d’autre part, avec le lancement d’un observatoire de la néotoponymie africaine (soit la nomination de nouveaux objets géographiques) qui inclut une plate-forme d’échanges avec les praticien-nes et les expert-es. Le programme de la chaire comportera également la réalisation d’un manuel double édition français et anglais et d’un cours en ligne intitulé “Dénommer le Monde”.

    Le choix de la candidature de l’UNIGE pour une nouvelle chaire UNESCO a pour but de valider l’affirmation de ce champ émergent, dont les thématiques culturelles, patrimoniales et de développement sont en adéquation avec les thèmes fondateurs de l’organisation internationale. De même, les orientations de la chaire sont en adéquation avec plusieurs des priorités de l’UNESCO, notamment les questions de genre, le partenariat académique et technique Nord-Sud, particulièrement avec l’Afrique, et enfin la prise en compte des aspects culturels, notamment les savoirs autochtones et vernaculaires, dans les initiatives de développement durable.

    https://www.unige.ch/communication/communiques/2021/une-nouvelle-chaire-unesco-en-toponymie-inclusive
    #toponymie #chaire_UNESCO #université_de_Genève #toponymie_politique

    ping @cede

  • La #guerriglia_odonomastica in #Cirenaica

    Il 19 febbraio sono apparsi in diversi luoghi della Cirenaica sei cartelli che raccontano brevemente l’origine del rione e la sua doppia anima antifascista e anticolonialista. La guerriglia odonomastica è stata realizzata da #Resistenze_in_Cirenaica cantiere culturale nato all’interno del Vag61 che si occupa di memoria storica e anticolonialismo.

    “Il 19 febbraio di 84 anni fa – scrivono – ci fu il massacro di Addis Abeba, uno dei tanti crimini del colonialismo italiano. Una data che in Etiopia è lutto nazionale, ma nel nostro paese che non ha mai fatto i conti con il suo passato, è un giorno qualsiasi. Ma non per tutt*, in molte città si è ricordato Yekatit 12 (l’equivalente del 19 febbraio nel calendario etiope), con azioni di guerriglia odonomastica. In Cirenaica si è voluto ricordare questa giornata, ricordando i crimini del colonialismo italiano, passato e presente, la barbarie del fascismo e la Resistenza che lo ha sconfitto”.

    Il rione, costruito a ridosso della guerra italo-turca del 1911-12 che portò alla conquista della Libia, conserva della vecchia odonomastica colonialista solo la sua direttrice principale, via Libia, grazie alla sostituzione nel 1949 della toponomastica originaria con gli eroi della Resistenza (Giuseppe Bentivogli, Sante Vincenzi, Mario Musolesi, Paolo Fabbri, Gianni Palmieri, Massenzio Masia, Ilio Barontini, Gastone Rossi, Francesco Sabatucci).

    “In nessun punto della discussione della seduta del consiglio comunale di Bologna del 16 aprile 1949 – scrive, però, Resistenze in Cirenaica -, troverete la critica al colonialismo che oggi siamo in grado di fare. Nondimeno, la decisione fu presa, e su quella decisione oggi noi possiamo fare leva, per andare oltre quelle cautele, quelle circonlocuzioni, quelle frasi pesate col bilancino”.

    https://zero.eu/en/news/la-guerriglia-odonomastica-in-cirenaica

    #guérilla_odonymique #guérilla_toponymique #toponymie #anti-colonialisme #anti-fascisme #Italie #mémoire #Libye #résistance #Bologne #Bologna #Bologna-Portomaggiore #Italie_coloniale #colonialisme_italien

    ping @cede

    –—

    ajouté à la métaliste sur le colonialisme italien:
    https://seenthis.net/messages/871953

  • Inaugurati a #Latina i murales in ricordo di Ilaria Alpi e #Miran_Hrovatin

    Sono stati inaugurati a Latina, in #piazza_Alpi_Hrovatin, due murales realizzati dall’artista Alessandra Chicarella e che raffigurano la giornalista Ilaria Alpi e il l’operatore triestino Miran Hrovatin, uccisi in un agguato a Mogadiscio in Somalia nel 1994.

    Nell’occasione è stata ribadita la richiesta di verità e giustizia per un duplice omicidio che è rimasto ancora oggi senza responsabili. Presenti all’inaugurazione anche il presidente della Federazione nazionale stampa italiana, il sindacato dei giornalisti, Beppe Giulietti, il legale della famiglia Alpi Giulio Vasaturo, e Maria Angela Gritta Gràiner, presidente del comitato Noi non archiviamo.

    Si è trattato di una ulteriore tappa di un percorso di collaborazione fra Comune di Latina, FNSI e associazione Articolo 21 con l’intento di sottolineare l’importanza della libertà di informazione.

    https://www.rainews.it/tgr/fvg/video/2021/09/fvg-murales-ilaria-alpi-miran-hrovatin-latina-d1fe1560-362d-4224-9bfa-2481dc
    #graffitis #Ilaria_Alpi #murales #art_de_rue #street-art
    #toponymie #toponymie_politique

    Car la journaliste Ilaria Alpi a été assassinée en #Somalie... il y a quand même des liens à faire avec le #colonialisme_italien #colonisation #Italie.
    Voir le fil de discussion autour de Ilaria Alpi et le film qui lui est dédié :
    https://seenthis.net/messages/872216

    ping @cede @isskein

  • #Virginia Removes Robert E. Lee Statue From State Capital

    The Confederate memorial was erected in 1890, the first of six monuments that became symbols of white power along the main boulevard in #Richmond.

    One of the nation’s largest Confederate monuments — a soaring statue of Robert E. Lee, the South’s Civil War general — was hoisted off its pedestal in downtown Richmond, Va., on Wednesday, bringing to an end the era of Confederate statues in the city that is best known for them.

    At 8:54 a.m., a man in an orange jacket waved his arms, and the 21-foot statue rose into the air and glided, slowly, to a flatbed truck below. The sun had just come out and illuminated the towering, graffiti-scrawled granite pedestal as a small crowd let out a cheer.

    “As a native of Richmond, I want to say that the head of the snake has been removed,” said Gary Flowers, a Black radio show host and civil rights activist at the scene.

    It was an emotional and deeply symbolic moment for a city that was once the capital of the Confederacy. The Lee statue was erected in 1890, the first of six Confederate monuments — symbols of white power — to dot Monument Avenue, a grassy boulevard that was a proud feature of the city’s architecture and a coveted address. On Wednesday, it became the last of them to be removed, opening up the story of this city to all of its residents to write.

    “This city belongs to all of us, not just some of us,” said David Bailey, who is Black and whose nonprofit organization, Arrabon, helps churches with racial reconciliation work. “Now we can try to figure out what’s next. We are creating a new legacy.”

    The country has periodically wrestled over monuments to its Confederate past, including in 2017, after a far-right rally in Charlottesville, Va., touched off efforts to tear them down — and to put them up. Richmond, too, removed some after the murder of George Floyd last year, in a sudden operation that took many by surprise. But the statue of General Lee endured, mostly because of its complicated legal status. That was clarified last week by the Supreme Court of Virginia. On Monday, Gov. Ralph Northam, who had called for its removal last year, announced he would finally do it.

    The battle over Civil War memory has been with Americans since the war itself. At its root, it is a power struggle over who has the right to decide how history is remembered. It is painful because it involves the most traumatic event the nation has experienced, and one that is still, to some extent, unprocessed, largely because the South came up with its own version of the war — that it was a noble fight for states’ rights, not slavery.

    The Lee monument, a bronze sculpture made by a French sculptor, was erected to make those points. When it was unveiled, on May 29, 1890, the crowd that turned out was the largest gathering in Richmond since the inauguration of Jefferson Davis as president of the Confederacy in 1862, with around 150,000 participants, according to the Virginia Department of Historic Resources.

    The statues on Monument Avenue were at the heart of Richmond’s identity, and the fact that they came down seemed to surprise almost everybody.

    “I would have thought somebody would blow up Richmond first before anyone would have let that happen,” Mr. Bailey said. “It’s a modern-day miracle.”

    But Richmond has changed. And as it became more diverse, demographically and politically, more of its residents began to question the memorials. Many people interviewed in this once conservative city said that they might not have agreed in past years, but that now the removal of the statues felt right.

    “I’ve evolved,” said Irv Cantor, a moderate Democrat in Richmond, who is white and whose house is on Monument Avenue. “I was naïvely thinking that we could keep these statues and just add new ones to show the true history, and everything would be fine.”

    But he said the past few years of momentous events involving race, from the election of the first Black president, to the violence in Charlottesville in 2017, to the killing of Mr. Floyd last summer and the protests that followed, showed him that the monuments were fundamentally in conflict with fairness in America.

    “Now I understand the resentment that folks have toward these monuments,” said Mr. Cantor, who is 68. “I don’t think they can exist anymore.”

    Now they are nearly all gone, and the city is littered with a series of empty pedestals, a kind of symbol of America’s unfinished business of race that is particularly characteristic of Richmond. (One smaller Confederate monument remains, of General A.P. Hill, in northern Richmond, far from Monument Avenue. The city has enacted a plan to remove it, but it has taken time because his remains are inside.)

    “We’ve begun to peel back the scabs,” said the Rev. Sylvester Turner, pastor at Pilgrim Baptist Church in the Richmond neighborhood of Eastview, who has worked on racial reconciliation in the city for 30 years. “When you do that, you experience a lot of pain and a lot of pushback, and I think we are in that place.”

    Richmond’s statue story is not typical. W. Fitzhugh Brundage, a historian at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, said that while several Democratic-controlled cities in the South have removed Confederate statues, a vast majority have remained standing. In his state of North Carolina, there were about 220 memorials on public lands in 2017. Today, about 190 are still standing.

    Progress on race in America tends to be followed by backsliding — and backlash — and many Black people interviewed in Richmond said they were bracing for that. Darryl Husband, senior pastor of Mt. Olivet Church in Richmond, works with conservative white churches and does not trust that they really want the change they say they do.

    Mr. Husband was unsentimental about the Lee statue coming down, more interested in real change that would improve the lives of Black people.

    “My first feelings obviously had to do with, ‘OK, what’s next?’” he said. “The symbol is down, but how do we deal with the rest of the symptoms that symbol represented?”

    In Richmond, as in many other places, the argument over race now centers on whether American institutions have racism baked in.

    Maggie Johnston, 62, a waitress who is white, might have rejected that notion earlier in life. She grew up in a Republican family whose firm belief was that hard work always brought success. But time in prison — and a wrenching reckoning with her own mistakes — opened her eyes.

    Ms. Johnston, who watched the monument come down on Wednesday while walking her dog Peanut, said her friends say, “I’m a hard-working person and I don’t have any privilege.” She tells them that privilege is not about money. “Privilege is about thinking the world works for everybody else the way it works for you.”

    Mr. Husband argued that the current thinking from conservatives on race was about who has the right to define America: “It says don’t mess with our power. Our power is in our ability to create the narrative of history.”

    Corey Widmer, pastor at Third Church, a mostly white, largely conservative church in Richmond, said he had wrestled with resistance to the current moment. He has worked hard to help his congregants accept how much the country has moved on race. They have read books, held Zoom sessions and debated what was happening. Some congregants changed. Others left the church.

    “There’s so much fear and so much political polarization,” said Mr. Widmer, who is white. He said every pastor in Richmond who is trying to help white Christians see Black Americans’ perspective and “reckon with our own responsibility has really been grieved by the conflict and pain that it has caused.”

    He added: “And yet this is how we change. Face it head on. Work through it. Love each other. Try to stay at the table. And just keep working. I don’t know what else to do.”

    On Wednesday morning, with the pedestal now empty, and General Lee on his way to a state warehouse, Mr. Flowers, the radio show host, was happy. He said he planned to celebrate by telling pictures of his dead relatives that “the humiliation and agony and pain you suffered has been partly lifted.”

    https://www.nytimes.com/2021/09/08/us/robert-e-lee-statue-virginia.html

    #Robert_Lee #guerre_civile #USA #Etats-Unis #statue #toponymie #toponymie_politique #histoire

    ping @cede

  • Mujeres en las calles de Córdoba

    En el año 1999, un grupo de profesionales que desarrollaban su trabajo en Córdoba, en su mayoría mujeres, y representantes de colectivos, se reunieron para llevar a cabo una propuesta de denominación de veinte calles con nombres de mujeres con ánimo de hacerlas visibles y rendirles homenaje en el callejero de nuestra ciudad.

    A lo largo de estos veinte años, el Colectivo con Nombre de Mujer, que posteriormente se integró como grupo de trabajo de la Asociación Lola Castilla, no sólo ha elevado sus propias propuestas, sino que ha impulsado y asesorado en relación a 80 vías de nuestra nuestra ciudad que llevan nombres de mujeres.

    El Departamento de Mujer e Igualdad del Ayuntamiento de Córdoba en respuesta a la demanda por parte del Centro de Profesorado de Córdoba para continuar con una iniciativa surgida en el curso escolar 2009-2010 de realizar rutas guiadas con perspectiva de género, decide apoyar este proyecto para que no se quede sólo en el ámbito de la enseñanza reglada, sino que pase al imaginario colectivo y llegue así a toda la ciudadanía.

    Así, con el recientemente aprobado II Plan transversal de Igualdad de Género, se quiere dar continuidad a algunas líneas de trabajo transversales ya iniciadas, siguiendo así con una de las líneas de acción del mencionado plan, que es la de creación de referentes en la historia viva de la ciudad, visibilizando las vidas, talentos, trabajos y aportaciones de las mujeres como protagonistas en la producción de conocimiento.

    Se trata de un proyecto cultural y educativo que organiza rutas urbanas para reflexionar, desde la perspectiva de género y los estereotipos, sobre el papel de la mujer en la sociedad. No se trata de destacar más a mujeres que hombres, sino mujeres que, destacando en los mismos ámbitos, no han recibido el mismo reconocimiento o han quedado olvidadas. Pretendemos descubrir y visibilizar a mujeres, relevantes o anónimas, de la localidad o del entorno, que hayan destacado por sus aportaciones en los distintos campos del conocimiento y del saber, o por su contribución en materia de igualdad, o por su historia de vida y compromiso social, en este caso, a través del callejero como vía de saber más de las mujeres que aparecen en él porque tienen una calle, y las mujeres que no están pero deberían estar.


    http://mujerescallescordoba.es
    #Cordoba #Espagne #toponymie #toponymie_féministe #femmes #noms_de_rue #itinéraires

  • Mexico City to swap Columbus statue for one of indigenous woman

    A statue of Italian explorer Christopher Columbus, which stood on one of the main avenues of Mexico City, will be replaced by one of an indigenous woman.

    Mexico City Mayor #Claudia_Sheinbaum said the bronze likeness of Columbus would be moved to a park and a statue of an #Olmec woman would take its place.

    The Columbus statue was removed from its plinth last year ahead of protests.

    Protesters have toppled Columbus statues in Latin America and the US.

    Christopher Columbus, an Italian-born explorer who was financed by the Spanish crown to set sail on voyages of exploration in the late 15th Century, is seen by many as a symbol of oppression and colonialism as his arrival in America opened the door to the Spanish conquest.

    Mayor Sheinbaum made the announcement on Sunday at a ceremony marking the international day of the indigenous woman.

    She said that relocating the statue was not an attempt to “erase history” but to deliver “social justice”.

    Ms Sheinbaum said that the Columbus statue “would not be hidden away” but that the civilisations which existed in Mexico before the Spanish conquest should receive recognition.

    The mayor said that sculptor #Pedro_Reyes was working on a statue of a woman from the Olmec civilisation, which flourished in the Gulf of Mexico from 1200 BC to 400 BC, to replace that of Columbus on Reforma Avenue.

    The plinth on which the Columbus statue stood has been empty since 10 October 2020 when it was removed “for restoration purposes” just two days before planned protests marking the arrival of Columbus in 1492.

    Some activists had issued calls on social media for the statue to be toppled.

    https://www.bbc.com/news/world-latin-america-58462071

    #Mexico_City #mexique #statue #monument #Colomb #Christophe_Colomb #toponymie #toponymie_politique #femmes #femme_autochtones #peuples_autochtones #justice_sociale #mémoire

    ping @cede

  • #Italie : un secrétaire d’Etat démissionne après avoir voulu baptiser un parc « #Mussolini »

    Les appels au départ de #Claudio_Durigon, fidèle parmi les fidèles de Matteo Salvini, se sont multipliés après qu’il a voulu donner le nom du frère du dictateur italien à un #jardin_public de #Latina, une ville côtière près de Rome.

    https://www.lemonde.fr/international/article/2021/08/27/italie-un-secretaire-d-etat-demissionne-apres-avoir-voulu-baptiser-un-parc-m
    #parc #parc_Mussolini #toponymie #toponymie_politique
    #démission

    ping @cede

  • Rocky Mountain peak officially given traditional #Stoney_Nakoda name, erasing racist label

    Peak near #Canmore will now be known as #Anû_Kathâ_Îpa (#Bald_Eagle_Peak)

    A prominent mountain peak in #Alberta's Rocky Mountains has officially been given the name it was called by Indigenous people for generations.

    The feature, located near the summit of Mount Charles Stewart, has had a racist and sexist nickname since the 1920s.

    The formation, visible from the mountain town of Canmore, will now be known by its original #Stoney_Nakoda name, Anû Kathâ Îpa, or Bald Eagle Peak.

    Chief Aaron Young of Chiniki First Nation said his daughter voiced anger at the mountain’s “shameful and derogatory” name for years.

    “Today, we will certainly honour our women.… It is on behalf of them that I stand here today with our council and elders to give thanks to our creator for guiding us in the naming of Bald Eagle Peak, Anû Kathâ Îpa,” Young said on Monday, standing in front of the peak.

    “A racist and sexist term has finally been cast aside. The Stoney people are grateful.”

    Young said the peak’s traditional name comes from the mountain’s location along eagle migratory routes. He said it was traditionally a location where locals would collect feathers.

    The peak was renamed during a ceremony with Stoney Nakoda elders last year, but Monday’s announcement marked the official change — meaning the landmark will be updated on provincial and federal place-name databases and maps.

    The landmark was previously known as S---w’s T-t. The first word, which comes from the Algonquin language, once simply meant woman but has since evolved into a term used to disparage Indigenous women.

    The province is also working toward renaming another offensively nicknamed mountain in #Banff_National_Park. Provincial officials said the government is working together with Parks Canada and Indigenous communities to identify a new name.

    “Sadly, sometimes the common names given to places are inappropriate and offensive, even an embarrassment to use,” said Alberta Culture Minister Ron Orr. “We’re correcting the official record for two of those places.”

    https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/calgary/bald-eagle-peak-renamed-1.6150616
    #Canada #toponymie #toponymie_politique #montagne #racisme #peuples_autochtones #Mount_Charles_Stewart #Charles_Stewart #femmes #toponoymie_féministe #sexisme

    ping @cede

  • "Son 30.000" is the new name of one of the internal streets of the former #Esma
    https://then24.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/08/1630378701_quotSon-30000quot-is-the-new-name-of-one-of-the.JPG

    “Where is my brother Santi…?”, The question, in the tone of a lament made into a song by Germán Maldonado, sounds from the loudspeakers announcing an emotional day: on the former Esma’s property, in front of the Our Children House, La Vida y La Esperanza, the Mothers of Plaza de Mayo Línea Fundadora pay tribute to their daughters and sons, on the International Day of Detained and Disappeared Persons

    In a day where one feels “the joy of being able to continue the fight”, as they say; after months of sanitary isolation; the place is revitalized. The purpose of the meeting is to rename one of the internal streets of the Site of Memory –which still keep their military names-, with the slogan: “There are 30,000”. Also, vindicate “the political militancy of their children” as “a legacy for the young generations,” explains Lita Boitano, at the beginning of the act, together with Taty Almeida.

    “This is a meeting with dear people who have memory”, Taty announces, before thanking the support of those who had met there “for the first time in a long time.” Along with the Mothers, there are representatives of Sons, Grandmothers, Relatives of the Detained and Disappeared, and survivors of the concentration camps of State terrorism. Taty thanked the Secretary for Human Rights, Horacio Pietragalla; the Minister of Education, Nicolás Trotta; to Victoria Montenegro and Alejandro Amor – candidates of the Frente de Todos -, to the trade unionists who are here and to those who sent their support ”. Hugo Yasky and Sergio Palazzo were present. That of the CGT co-secretary Héctor Daer was one of the adhesions.

    It was 15 o’clock, and under a sun that was already announcing spring, when the dialogue between Taty and Lita began, along with Fátima Cabrera, a “survivor” who today coordinates the School of Popular Music of the Our Children House. In virtual form, other Mothers were connected to the day that was broadcast on the YouTube channel of the Casa Nuestro Hijos: Enriqueta Maroni, Hayde Gastelu, Vera Jarach, Nora Cortiñas, Carmen Lareu, Sara Russ and Clara Weinstein.

    The School of Music turns ten years old, and that was another reason to celebrate: “that we are here, despite the canes and wheelchairs, ‘the crazy women’ are still standing, we are here”, described Taty. And the first applause of the afternoon was heard.

    The day began at noon with the creation of a large external mural, and an open radio. Adela Antokoletz – Daniel’s sister, kidnapped in 1976 – explained the origin of the commemorative date there. The organization of associations of Relatives of Latin America -FEDEFAM-, instituted it “in homage to Marta Vásquez” recalls. Marta Vásquez was president of Madres Línea Fundadora, and had an active militancy due to the incorporation of the crime of forced disappearance into international agreements. That FEDEFAM convention in his memory “was so powerful that organizations such as the OAS and the UN took it” and made it universal. Adela affirms: “it is a contribution to the strengthening of the world conscience about the crime against humanity that means the practice of the forced disappearance of persons”.

    Today, in many parts of the world the date is commemorated. And in Argentina, it has particular characteristics. “Renaming this street with the slogan ‘They are 30,000’ is a tribute, but it also seeks to counteract the denial that unfortunately continues to exist in our society,” says Fátima Cabrera. The plan indicates that this will be the first change that the streets of the property will receive, as part of a proposal that will modify all the names, in the medium term.

    “During the macrismo, those who governed us, descended from many of the names that we still see in these streets,” said Horacio Pietragalla, “and for that plot of royal power, the memory of the 30,000 was not on the agenda.” In the battle of the senses on which the everyday is built, “rescuing and filling ourselves with the mystique of our 30,000 is part of the task,” later Pietragalla emphasized, invited by the Mothers to the conversation that interspersed music and videos, with precise words, and convictions. sustained. “This is what can lead us to a more just, supportive and sovereign country” emphasized at the end of his speech, the Secretary of Human Rights of the Nation.

    Grandma Buscaita Roa, took the microphone and agreed: “At some point better times will come, you have to work for that, all the time,” he said. Her white scarf gleamed crowning her petite figure. The music played again when the mid-afternoon called to discover the plaque that will indicate from now on, the new designation of the street that passes in front of the Our Children House.

    Until today he referred to the sailor Hipólito Bouchard, French by origin, nationalized Argentine. Now it is called: “There are 30,000”. This is indicated by the plaque discovered by Taty Almeyda, along with Pietragalla, Nicolás Trotta, Hugo Yasky, Sergio Palazzo, Fátima Cabrera and Mabel Careaga, daughter of Esther Ballestrino de Carega, one of the Mothers arrested and disappeared in the Church of the Holy Cross. The beginning of the closing was in charge of Ignacio Copani: “I haven’t played for 18 months,” the musician explained, “and it seemed like a very good opportunity to return, to do so while accompanying this event, of hope and memory.”
    Memory, truth and justice

    “The marches of March 24 are missed” was heard more than once, among Human Rights activists, at this event. “There have already been two years where we could not go,” reinforces Charly Pisoni, a reference for HIJOS, when he explains the joy of many to be at the former ESMA. “It is a special day because the date is installed throughout the world, and calls for new challenges” he defines. And he elaborates: “The process of memory, truth and justice has not been concluded, and we understand that forced disappearance continues in Argentina. We had to do acts and marches for the body of Santiago Maldonado to appear. And what happened to Facundo Astudillo Castro is still being investigated. The democratization of the Security Forces is pending. And for example, do not shoot, before giving the voice of stop -graphic-. This means looking to the future, and consolidating our democracy ”, he synthesizes before the consultation of Page 12.

    https://then24.com/2021/08/30/son-30-000-is-the-new-name-of-one-of-the-internal-streets-of-the-former-esma
    #toponymie #toponymie_politique #noms_de_rue #desaparecidos #disparus #Argentine #mémoire #Madres_de_Plaza_de_Mayo #Son_30000 #Buenos_Aires

  • Dans le superbe #livre de #Igiaba_Scego, La linea del colore
    https://www.bompiani.it/catalogo/la-linea-del-colore-9788830101418
    –-> livre déjà signalé ici autour de #Nadezhda_De_Santis : https://seenthis.net/messages/872094

    ... une émouvante description des émotions de la protagoniste du livre, femme noire, quand elle observe les détails de cette #fontaine :

    Dans la #Piazza_Giacomo_Matteotti, à #Marino, près de Rome, la #Fontana_dei_quattro_mori :
    https://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Piazza_Giacomo_Matteotti_(Marino)

    Voici comment Scego raconte cette « rencontre » avec les visages sculptées (en italien, le livre n’a pas - mais bienôt j’espère - été traduit) :

    «La mia testa ancora non ricordava nulla, ma il mio corpo aveva conservato in ogni centimetro di epidermide le immagine viste vent’anni prima duante la sagra a cui ero andata con Lorella, quell’antica collega di università, e sua madre.
    Davanti alla fontana riprovai quella sensazione di insopportabile disagio.
    Le due donne di tufo erano ancora lì, con lo sguardo sempre disperato. Sempre incatenate al palo della fontana, a seno nudo, con lo sguardo di chi sa che l’aspetta solo lo stupro.
    Anche la prima volta fui atterrita da quella visione. Lorella e sua madre si trascinavano verso la fontana, la madre gridava alla figlia: ’Riempimi il bicchiere.’ E poi mi guardava con aria colpevole e balbettava giustificandosi: ’E’ il vino dei Castelli, la sagra, è la tradizione, lo capisci?’ Io annuivo senza staccare gli occhi attoniti da quella calca che si gettava sulle due statue, sulle povere ragazze di tufo, ragazze legate al palo che nessuno - tranne me - vedeva.
    Scoprii solo in seguito che quella fontana fu costruita originariamente nel Diciassettesimo secolo e poi ricostruita dopo i bombardamenti della seconda guerra mondiale che l’avevano parzialmente distrutta. Fu la prima fontana di Marino a far sgorgare il vino.
    Era l’anno di grazia 1925 e la sagra nacque in quell’anno, a tre anni dalla marcia su Roma di Mussolini. Da allora ebbe inizio quella tradizione che soppiantò totalmente la sagra precedente dedicata alla Madonna. La fontana era chiamata dei Quattro Mori: secondo la vulgata delle enciclopedie consultate quando ancora non c’era internet e niente era disponibile con un clic, i mori erano pirati turchi. Ma lì non c’erano pirati, c’erano solo schiavi. Persone incatenate, disperate sole, piegate in una posa inumana. Le donne avevano i seni che tremavano per il terrore.
    Di quella fontana (mi bastò andare in biblioteca) scoprii altre cose: il nome di chi la ideò - #Sergio_Venturi -, e poi perché venne costruita. I marinesi volevano commemorare la #battaglia_di_Lepanto e #Marcantonio_Colonna, che ne fu uno degli artefici. Quella battaglia che contrappose cristianità e Impero Ottomano. Pensai che la parata che aveva visto era la commemorazione della sfilata trionfale di Marcantonio Colonna, una sfilata in cui le persone catturate erano il bottino di guerra, schiavi che i potenati si sarebbero divisi. Per un po’ quella fontana fu la mia ossessione. A causa sua, del resto, scelsi di inoltrarmi nel mondo dell’arte. Ma come ogni ossessione anche quella sfumò, pressata dalla mia quotidianità di allora fatta di esami, amori, piani per il futuro, incertezze che mi prendevano alla gola e non mi facevano respirare. O forse stavo solo dimenticando, perché è più facile rimuovere un dolore.
    Ma quel giorno, al matrimonio di Stefania, percepii di nuovo quello sguardo afflitto su di me.
    Ero ferma davanti alla fontana, come ferma lo era stata Lafanu Brown la prima volta che l’avevo vista, così come racconta in una sua lettera a Lizzie Manson, la sua prima istitutrice amica.
    ’Quelle donne, quelle mie antenate, perché noi discendiamo dalla sofferenza degli schiavi, vogliono che qualcuno dia loro voce. Oh Lizzie cara, lo vedo quanto si sforzano di protendersi verso di noi. Quando il loro busto si butta in avanti quasi per tuffarsi nel nulla. Baby Sue me lo ha raccontato una infinità di volte che lei, quando la tiravano fuori dalle segrete della nave negriera e poi la tenevano ferma in attesa del suo turno di essere violata, provava a divincolarsi e a buttarsi nell’oceano per trovare scampo a quell’incubo che nella sua Africa non aveva mai conosciuto. Baby è una orgogliosa Peul dell’entroterra, mai si era immaginata che potesse esistere qualcosa di più feroce di una iena affamata. Ma poi ha visto l’uomo bianco e ha capito che la crudeltà non ha limite. La mia Baby Sue, che ha trovato la calma in quelle sue torte zuccherate all’inverosimile. Perché solo quello zucchero poteva toglierle l’amaro che le impastava la bocca. lo stesso amaro che sento ancora sulla mia lingua.’
    Io ancora non sapevo niente di Lafanu Brown. Queste parole le avrei lette mesi dopo grazie ad Alexandria Mendoza Gil, una collega di Stefania anche lei invitata al matrimonio. Stefania era una ricercatrice, e dopo il matrimonio lei e il marito sarebbero partiti per gli Stati Uniti, per Salenius, dove viveva anche Alexandria. Lavorava nel dipartimento di storia dell’arte, e stava facendo una ricerca sulle artiste nere del Diciannovesimo secolo.
    Fu lei a posarmi una mano sulla spalla quando mi vide lì, davanti alle due donne incatenate, sull’orlo delle lacrime.
    ’Anch’io ho pianto la prima volta,’ mi disse in un inglese che odorava di manioca. ’Mia nonna è di Santo Domingo. Ho sangue nero nelle vene, come te. Questa fontana non può lasciarci indifferenti. E non ha lasciato indifferete nemmeno Lafanu Brown’.»

    (pp.79-81)

    #littérature #colonialisme #villes #post-colonialisme #post-colonial #toponymie

    –-

    ajouté à la métaliste sur l’#Italie_coloniale :
    https://seenthis.net/messages/871953

    ping @cede

  • #Canada. Pensionnats autochtones : une #université va changer de nom

    La prestigieuse université publique canadienne #Ryerson sera renommée l’an prochain. Ainsi en a décidé le conseil des gouverneurs de l’institution située au cœur de #Toronto, pour se dissocier de l’homme dont elle porte le nom, un des fondateurs du système des #pensionnats_autochtones, désormais honni par la société canadienne.

    (#paywall)
    https://www.courrierinternational.com/article/canada-pensionnats-autochtones-une-universite-va-changer-de-n
    #toponymie #toponymie_politique

    ping @cede

  • La Ville veut féminiser 14 nouvelles rues

    Les autorités de la Ville de #Genève déposeront en septembre un nouveau dossier auprès de la Commission cantonale de nomenclature pour féminiser des rues et emplacements sur le territoire municipal.

    https://lecourrier.ch/2021/08/23/la-ville-veut-feminiser-14-nouvelles-rues

    (#paywall)

    #toponymie_politique #noms_de_rue #toponymie #toponymie_féministe #résistance #féminisme #re-nomination #repabtisation #action_toponymique #Suisse

    –-

    –—

    Ajouté à ce fil de discussion sur la #féminisation des noms de rue à #Genève :
    https://seenthis.net/messages/787572

  • DEDICATA ALLE VITTIME DI FEMMINICIDIO UN’AREA NELLA ZONA DEL POLICLINICO

    05-07-2021

    Approvata dalla Giunta Comunale su proposta dell’Assessore alle pari opportunità d’intesa con l’Assessore ai servizi demografici, il nuovo toponimo “Largo Vittime di femminicidio” per un’area nella frazione Tredici/San Benedetto, nelle vicinanze della realizzanda area ospedaliera, e più specificamente all’incrocio di Via Campania con Via Reali.

    Con questa decisione l’Amministrazione Comunale vuole testimoniare l’impegno sulle tematiche della tutela dei diritti e del contrasto ad ogni forma di violenza e discriminazione. “Il fenomeno della violenza sulle donne, anche nella sua forma estrema di femminicidio, è purtroppo ancora grave piaga nel nostro Paese ed anche nel nostro territorio”, afferma l’assessore alle pari opportunità prof.ssa Monaco. “Intestare alle vittime di questa estrema violenza un luogo della città non è solo un modo non dimenticarle, ma anche un modo di favorire il dibattito e il contrasto ad una tragedia che, purtroppo, non accenna a fermarsi. Spero che Largo vittime di femminicidio diventi un luogo simbolo ed anche punto di incontro per iniziative cittadine condivise”. Esprime soddisfazione anche la Presidente della Commissione pari opportunità, avv. Drusilla de Nicola. “La decisione dell’Amministrazione dà voce alle istanze delle associazioni femminili e della Commissione pari opportunità del Comune di Caserta. Auspico che con l’allentamento delle restrizioni dettate dalla pandemia, possa al più presto ripristinarsi anche lo sportello di ascolto della Commissione stessa, a Palazzo del Vescovo o in altra sede che l’Ente potrà mettere a disposizione”.

    Prima di diventare effettiva, la delibera dovrà essere trasmessa alla Prefettura per le - necessarie autorizzazioni, ai sensi della Legge 23/06/1927 n. 1188.

    https://www.comune.caserta.it/archivio10_notizie-e-comunicati_0_2596_12_1.html

    #Caserta #Italie #toponymie #toponymie_féministe #femmes #féminicides #toponymie_politique
    #Largo_vittime_di_femminicidio

  • Decolonizzare la città. Dialoghi Visuali a Padova -
    Decolonizing the city. Visual Dialogues in Padova

    Il video partecipativo, realizzato con studenti e studentesse del laboratorio Visual Research Methods (prof.ssa Annalisa Frisina) del corso LM Culture, Formazione e Società Globale, esplora l’eredità coloniale inscritta nelle vie e piazza di Padova. I sei protagonisti/e del video, artist* e attivit* afrodiscendenti, dialogano con questi luoghi, mettendo in atto contronarrazioni intime e familiari che sfidano la storia ufficiale, lasciando tracce del loro passaggio.

    –—

    The participatory video made by the students of Visual Research Methods laboratory (prof. Annalisa Frisina), Master’s degree in Cultures, Education and Global Society, explores the colonial legacy of Padova’s roads and squares. Six afro-descendent artists and activists interact with these places, giving life to intimate counter-narratives that challenge the official history, leaving their personal traces.

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B6CtMsORajE

    Quelques images tirées du film :


    –-

    –-

    Où on apprend que les enfants « métissés » étaient appelés « #figli_di_due_bandiere » (fils de deux drapeaux)

    #villes #décolonial #décoloniser_la_ville #Italie #Padoue #Padova #héritage_colonial #colonialisme #toponymie #toponymie_politique #géographie_urbaine #historicisation #histoire #traces #mariage_mixte #Corne_de_l'Afrique #colonialisme_italien #Antenore #fascisme #histoire_coloniale #impérialisme #piazza_Antenore #citoyenneté #néo-colonialisme #pouvoir #Amba_Aradam #blessure
    #TRUST #Master_TRUST
    #film #film_documentaire

    ping @cede @karine4 @isskein

    –—

    Ajouté à la métaliste sur le #colonialisme_italien :
    https://seenthis.net/messages/871953

  • A #Marseille, l’école #Bugeaud bientôt rebaptisée du nom d’un tirailleur algérien

    « Une école peut porter le nom d’un #héros, pas d’un #bourreau », estime le maire socialiste Benoît Payan, qui a décidé de retirer le patronyme du conquérant de l’#Algérie au profit de celui d’#Ahmed_Litim, libérateur de Marseille.

    L’école primaire Bugeaud, dans le 3e arrondissement de Marseille, sera bientôt débaptisée pour porter le nom d’un soldat inconnu, Ahmed Litim, tirailleur algérien, libérateur de Marseille, mort à 24 ans le 25 août 1944 sous le feu des occupants nazis.

    La délibération qui doit officialiser cette décision sera présentée au conseil municipal vendredi 21 mai. Mais, pilotée de bout en bout par le maire socialiste Benoît Payan, leader du Printemps marseillais, elle devrait être largement soutenue par la majorité de gauche, écologiste et citoyenne qui dirige la ville.

    « Une école de la République peut porter le nom d’un héros, mais pas celui d’un bourreau », assure le maire de Marseille au Monde pour expliquer son choix. « Chaque matin, des enfants rentrent sous un fronton où sont inscrits à la fois la devise de la République – “Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité” – et le nom de Bugeaud, ce qui est totalement contradictoire », s’indigne-t-il. Maréchal de France, gouverneur général de l’Algérie dès 1840, Thomas Bugeaud (1784-1849) s’est d’abord illustré dans les campagnes napoléoniennes, réprimant férocement les rébellions, notamment en Espagne. Mais il reste dans l’histoire comme l’officier qui a soumis l’Algérie et forcé l’émir Abd El-Kader à déposer les armes, en 1847.

    Une victoire militaire obtenue par des méthodes dénoncées à l’époque jusque devant la Chambre des pairs, notamment la mise à mort de milliers de civils, enfumés dans les grottes où ils avaient trouvé refuge. « Bugeaud met aussi en place la politique de la terre brûlée, dont l’objectif est de dégoûter à jamais la population de toute résistance. Quand il débarque à Alger, il apporte avec lui des malles entières de médaillons portant l’inscription “arabe soumis” », rappelle l’historien Ahmed Bouyerdene, conseiller scientifique de l’exposition Abd El-Kader prévue au printemps 2022 au MuCEM, à Marseille.

    #paywall

    https://www.lemonde.fr/politique/article/2021/05/11/a-marseille-l-ecole-bugeaud-debaptisee-pour-porter-le-nom-d-un-tirailleur-al
    #école #toponymie #toponymie_politique #tirailleurs #France

    ping @cede

  • More than just a statue: why removing Rhodes matters

    In the context of a worldwide movement against race hate, Oriel College’s position makes no sense

    Anger is a potent, if volatile, political force. It can be channelled toward many ends. It’s often dismissed as counterproductive, but Audre Lorde, the African American writer and civil rights activist, reminds us that anger can be a powerful source of energy. It can serve progress and change, it can be liberating and clarifying.

    I remember so viscerally my own anger this time last year as I screamed Black Lives Matter in the aftermath of George Floyd’s murder. And I was not alone. The world witnessed a prolonged outpouring of rage. Global protests with emotionally charged testimonies and determined calls for justice abounded. These protests soon extended beyond the immediate circumstances of Floyd’s death at the knee of Derek Chauvin to challenging an array of institutions that are built on or propagate anti-Black racism. Anger had made it abundantly clear that, despite all the promises of liberal democracy, western society still has a problem with race.

    At first the message appeared to be getting across. If we were to believe the black squares on Instagram, or the spike in sales of anti-racism books, or the spread of a new mantra among white people (“I need to educate myself”), then change of some kind was afoot.

    In Oxford, the Black Lives Matter protests folded into the anti-colonial activism of Rhodes Must Fall. This is not surprising. Colonialism and racism are entwined like the strands of a double helix. In modern Britain, colonialism has transcended its historical epoch. It exists in the present as a kind of nostalgia for the country’s hegemony on the world stage, while fuelling nationalism, buttressing white supremacy and generating anxieties about immigration and cultural change. The statue of Cecil John Rhodes at Oriel College in Oxford perfectly distils this imperial nostalgia into a concrete object.

    The charge sheet against Rhodes is well documented. Rhodes’s imperial philosophy was unabashedly supremacist, and he detested Africans (“If the whites maintain their position as the supreme race, the day may come when we shall be thankful that we have the natives with us in their proper position”). At the end of the 19th century, Rhodes invaded the Ndebele kingdom in what is now Zimbabwe. His British South Africa Company mowed down soldiers, women and children with Maxim guns; it looted cattle and destroyed grain stores and crops, leaving the local population destitute; and it went on to establish the apartheid state of Rhodesia. Rhodes was often present while these atrocities were taking place, and he was involved in strategic discussions about the wars he waged against Black people in southern Africa.

    I have been part of the campaign to take down the statue of Rhodes at Oxford since 2015. In the last six years, I have seen the history of Rhodes – and indeed colonialism – sanitised, ignored, denied and distorted by critics of the campaign. Some claim that Rhodes was not a racist, others who know little of Africa have the gall to accuse people like me of erasing history. George Orwell was right when he wrote: “It is quite true that the English are hypocritical about their Empire.”

    In response to the anti-racism protests last June, Oriel College’s governing body expressed its desire to remove the statue of Rhodes subject to review by an independent commission composed of academics, city councillors, Oriel alumni, university administrators and journalists. This was the second time the college had made such a pledge. In 2016, the college had stated that it would launch a six-month “listening exercise” on the Rhodes statue, only to renege on this commitment within six weeks because it feared losing donor gifts from the college’s old boys’ network.

    I wanted to believe that the independent commission would be taken seriously this time round. The commissioners worked hard. They gathered evidence and testimonies from a wide range of perspectives for nearly a year before producing a detailed, heavily footnoted report. Ultimately, they recommended the removal of the statue and offered several other suggestions for advancing academic and public understanding of the Rhodes legacy.

    On 20 May, Oriel College finally announced its decision: it would retain the statue despite the apparent wishes of the college’s governing body and the recommendations of the independent commission. Why? The college’s website states that the governing body has “carefully considered the regulatory and financial challenges, including the expected time frame for removal, which could run into years with no certainty of outcome, together with the total cost of removal”. Like dowdy clothing, such statements conceal more than they reveal. What are these regulatory and financial challenges exactly? What is meant by “no certainty of outcome”? Even Oxford City Council was baffled.

    The statement goes on to say that “instead” of taking down the statue, the governing body will focus on contextualising Rhodes’s relationship to the college and “improving educational equality, diversity, and inclusion”. The word “instead” is doing a lot of work here: it is dissipating the core demand of the protests into an array of tiny initiatives that the college should be taking anyway. As educators, I think part of our professional mandate is to constantly improve equality, diversity and inclusion among students and colleagues. Oriel deserves no special credit for committing to this.

    Taking down the Rhodes statue might seem symbolic, but it actually represents real change. At the very least, it would demonstrate that the university is not only beholden to a group of wealthy alumni and political patrons. The education secretary, Gavin Williamson, lauded Oriel’s decision as “sensible”. More generally, arguments over statues are always about the present and not the past. They are about which aspects of our cultural heritage we choose to honour in public space and why. They are about what values we wish to promote and who has a voice in these matters.

    There is another salient lesson here. Public outrage can mobilise impassioned calls for change like an all-consuming fire, but this is difficult to sustain. Anger is potent but it is exhausting. When the temperature cools down, when energy is depleted, those opposed to change can extinguish the urgency of anti-racism agendas using bureaucracy, platitudes and obfuscation.

    Still, I don’t think the story will end here. The anger that was activated last summer has shifted the public conversation about race and colonialism. If history has taught us anything, it’s that social change is often slow and difficult. It rarely unfolds through absolute victories but through partial gains and subtle shifts in collective consciousness. It’s a matter of time before anger erupts again. The question of how that anger will ultimately be used is an open one.

    https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2021/may/24/oriel-college-rhodes-statue-anti-racist-anger

    #statute #commémoration #mémoire #toponymie_politique #rage #Rhodes_Must_Fall #colonialisme #colonisation #Cecil_John_Rhodes #Oxford #Oriel_College #université

    ping @cede

  • Straßenumbenennung in Berlin : Koloniale Atmosphäre ist verpufft

    Bei Google Maps ist die Umbenennung schon vollzogen: Wer dort am Donnerstag nach der Neuköllner Wissmannstraße sucht, bekommt zwar eine Wegbeschreibung, die endet jedoch wie selbstverständlich an der Lucy-Lameck-Straße. Auch in den Online-Stadtplänen ist der neue Name der Straße, die sich vom Hermannplatz bis hoch zur Karlsgartenstraße zieht, schon eingetragen. Offiziell und feierlich umbenannt wird die Straße zwar erst am heutigen Freitag um 16 Uhr. Wissmann jedoch ist aus dem Neuköllner Stadtbild bereits verschwunden.

    Denn auch an der Straße selbst sind die Schilder am Donnerstagvormittag schon abmontiert, auch hier sucht man vergebens nach dem alten Namen, aber auch die Lucy-Lameck-Straße ist noch nicht sichtbar. Unscheinbar, bei näherem Betrachten aber doch prägnant, hebt sich im 90-Grad-Winkel zum Straßenschild der Karlsgartenstraße eine strahlend silbrige, neu angebrachte Halterung vom Himmel ab. Vermutlich wird das neue Schild hier anmontiert.

    Jene Befestigungsmöglichkeit markiert also das Ende einer Ära, in der die Straße durch ihren ehemaligen Namensgeber, #Hermann_von_Wissmann (1853–1905) und die zivilgesellschaftliche Kritik an ihm geprägt war. Der Reichskommissar und Gouverneur des damaligen Deutsch-Ostafrika (heute Tansania, Burundi und Ruanda) hat mit seinen militärischen Expeditionen in den deutschen Kolonien schwerste Verbrechen begangen. Er führte einen gewaltsamen Feldzug gegen die Bevölkerung, plünderte Dörfer, setzte sie in Brand und schlug Widerstände brutal nieder.

    Nach jahrezehntelangen Bemühungen des Vereins Berlin Postkolonial, der sich für die Umbenennung zur Würdigung von Opfern und Geg­ne­r*in­nen des deutschen Kolonialismus engagiert hat, ändert der Berliner Bezirk Neukölln nun den Straßennamen. Die neue Namensgeberin ist #Lucy-Lameck (1934–1993), die erste Frau im Regierungskabinett Tansanias. Sie setzte sich als eine der wichtigsten afrikanischen Vorkämpferinnen für die Rechte der Frauen im 20. Jahrhundert ein.
    Weitere Umbenennungen in Planung

    Neukölln ist nach Friedrichshain-Kreuzberg, wo bereits 2010 das Gröbenufer in May-Ayim-Ufer umbenannt wurde, der zweite Bezirk, der eine solche Straßenumbenennung vornimmt. Ähnliche Pläne gibt es in Mitte und in Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf (dort gibt es auch noch eine Wissmannstraße).

    Am Donnerstagvormittag ist auf der Lucy-Lameck-Straße kaum Betrieb. Die Straße ist wenig befahren, mal kreuzt eine Kindergartengruppe, mal ein älterer Herr. Es rumpelt, wenn ein Kleintransporter über das Kopfsteinpflaster fährt. Die kolonialistische Atmosphäre scheint durch das fehlende Straßenschild verpufft zu sein.

    Im vergangenen Jahr sagte Cordula Klein, Fraktionsvorsitzende der SPD in der BVV Neukölln und stellvertretende Vorsitzende des Bildungsausschusses, der taz, dass Spa­zier­gän­ge­r*in­nen stehen bleiben sollten, um zu überlegen, warum die Straße umbenannt wurde. Das wäre wünschenswert – vielleicht tut das auch jemand, sobald hier die angekündigte Stele steht. Doch wegen eines fehlenden Straßenschilds schaut sich hier noch niemand verwirrt um. Doch so unscheinbar und unbemerkt, wie sich der neue Straßenname in die Onlinekarten und das Straßenbild einfügt, so markant bleibt doch das Zeichen gegen Kolonialpropaganda.

    https://taz.de/Strassenumbenennung-in-Berlin/!5762407
    #Berlin #Allemagne #colonisation #colonialisme #toponymie #toponymie_politique

    ping @cede @nepthys

  • Villes et pays continuent d’être rebaptisés en Afrique afin d’effacer le lien colonial

    En #Afrique_du_Sud, #Port_Elizabeth s’appellera désormais #Gqeberha. Les changements de nom de lieux sont étroitement liés à la #décolonisation ou aux fluctuations de régime politique.

    L’Afrique n’est pas une exception. De tout temps, les changements de toponymie ont été des marqueurs de l’histoire, souvent pour la gloire des vainqueurs, avec la volonté de tourner la page d’un passé fréquemment honni. L’exemple de l’Afrique du Sud, qui vient d’entériner le remplacement du nom de la ville de Port Elizabeth, illustre la volonté d’effacer le passé colonial du pays. Celle-ci portait en effet le nom de l’épouse du gouverneur du Cap, Sir Rufane Donkin, « fondateur » de la ville en 1820, à l’arrivée de quelques 4 000 migrants britanniques.

    Les initiateurs de ce changement de toponymie le revendiquent. Rebaptiser la ville est une manière d’inscrire le peuple noir dans l’histoire du pays et de rendre leur dignité aux communautés noires. Port Elizabeth s’appelle désormais Gqeberha qui est le nom, en langue Xhosa, de la rivière qui traverse la ville, la #Baakens_River. Mais c’est aussi et surtout le nom d’un de ses plus vieux Townships.

    #Uitenhage devient #Kariega

    La ville voisine d’Uitenhage est elle aussi rebaptisée Kariega. Les tenants de ce changement ne voulaient plus de référence au fondateur de la ville, #Jacob_Glen_Cuyler. « Nous ne pouvons pas honorer cet homme qui a soumis notre peuple aux violations des droits de la personne les plus atroces », explique Christian Martin, l’un des porteurs du projet.

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TJLmPSdNh-k&feature=emb_logo

    Jusqu’à présent, rebaptiser les villes en Afrique du Sud s’était fait de façon indirecte, notamment en donnant un nom à des métropoles urbaines qui en étaient jusqu’ici dépourvues. Ainsi, Port Elizabeth est-elle la ville centre de la Métropole de #Nelson_Mandela_Bay, qui rassemble plus d’un million d’habitants.

    Si Pretoria, la capitale de l’Afrique du Sud, a conservé son nom, la conurbation de près de trois millions d’habitants et treize municipalités créée en 2000 s’appelle #Tshwane. Quant à #Durban, elle appartient à la métropole d’#eThekwini.

    Un changement tardif

    Ces changements de nom se font tardivement en Afrique du Sud, contrairement au reste du continent, parce que quoiqu’indépendante depuis 1910, elle est restée contrôlée par les Blancs descendants des colonisateurs. Il faudra attendre la fin de l’apartheid en 1991 et l’élection de Nelson Mandela à la tête du pays en 1994 pour que la population indigène se réapproprie son territoire.

    Pour les mêmes raisons, la #Rhodésie_du_Sud ne deviendra le #Zimbabwe qu’en 1980, quinze ans après l’indépendance, lorsque le pouvoir blanc des anciens colons cédera la place à #Robert_Mugabe.
    Quant au #Swaziland, il ne deviendra #eSwatini qu’en 2018, lorsque son fantasque monarque, #Mswati_III, décidera d’effacer la relation coloniale renommant « le #pays_des_Swatis » dans sa propre langue.

    Quand la politique rebat les cartes

    Une période postcoloniale très agitée explique aussi les changements de nom à répétition de certains Etats.

    Ainsi, à l’indépendance en 1960, #Léopoldville capitale du Congo est devenue #Kinshasa, faisant disparaître ainsi le nom du roi belge à la politique coloniale particulièrement décriée. En 1965, le maréchal #Mobutu lance la politique de « #zaïrisation » du pays. En clair, il s’agit d’effacer toutes traces de la colonisation et de revenir à une authenticité africaine des #patronymes et toponymes.

    Un #Zaïre éphémère

    Le mouvement est surtout une vaste opération de nationalisation des richesses, détenues alors par des individus ou des compagnies étrangères. Le pays est alors renommé République du Zaïre, ce qui a au moins le mérite de le distinguer de la #République_du_Congo (#Brazzaville), même si le nom est portugais !

    Mais l’appellation Zaïre était elle-même trop attachée à la personnalité de Mobutu. Et quand le dictateur tombe en 1997, le nouveau maître Laurent-Désiré Kabila s’empresse de rebaptiser le pays en République démocratique du Congo. Là encore, il s’agit de signifier que les temps ont changé.

    Effacer de mauvais souvenirs

    Parfois le sort s’acharne, témoin la ville de #Chlef en #Algérie. Par deux fois, en 1954 puis en 1980, elle connaît un séisme destructeur. En 1954, elle s’appelle encore #Orléansville. Ce nom lui a été donné par le colonisateur français en 1845 à la gloire de son #roi_Louis-Philippe, chef de la maison d’Orléans.

    En 1980, l’indépendance de l’Algérie est passée par là, la ville a repris son nom historique d’#El_Asnam. Le 10 octobre 1980, elle est une nouvelle fois rayée de la carte ou presque par un terrible #tremblement_de_terre (70% de destruction). Suite à la catastrophe, la ville est reconstruite et rebaptisée une nouvelle fois. Elle devient Chlef, gommant ainsi les références à un passé dramatique...

    https://www.francetvinfo.fr/monde/afrique/societe-africaine/villes-et-pays-continuent-d-etre-rebaptises-en-afrique-afin-d-effacer-l

    #colonisation #colonialisme #noms_de_villes #toponymie #toponymie_politique #Afrique

  • #Ivry-sur-Seine : clash en Conseil municipal suite aux réactions à la #balade_décoloniale

    A Ivry-sur-Seine, la balade décoloniale organisée par un collectif d’associations fin janvier pour inviter à rebaptiser plusieurs noms de rue de la ville, a donné lieu à une tribune radicalement opposée de la part d’un élu. Le débat s’est invité de façon paroxystique au Conseil municipal de ce jeudi 11 février.

    Tout commence fin janvier par l’organisation d’une marche décoloniale dans la ville, par un collectif d’associations (Collectif Abyayala, Collectif Romain Rolland, collectif Ivryens contre la loi « séparatismes », Convergence Citoyenne Ivryenne (CCI), Front uni des Immigration et des Quartiers Populaire). “Les noms des rues ne sont pas choisis par hasard, ils revêtent une dimension hautement symbolique et mémorielle. Force est de constater qu’en France, les rues sont bien souvent à la gloire de l’empire colonial. Interpeler et questionner ces noms, n’est ni une lubie, ni une question secondaire, mais bien une nécessité, même un devoir. La ville d’Ivry-sur-Seine n’est malheureusement pas épargnée par ces choix de noms de rue. On ne bâtit pas d’avenir commun sans remettre en cause les crimes contre l’humanité qu’ont été l’esclavage et la colonisation”, motive le collectif.

    5 rues rebaptisées

    Le 23 janvier, 80 personnes (selon le collectif) se retrouvent donc pour rebaptiser 5 rues. La rue #Christophe_Colomb (navigateur du 15ème siècle considéré comme le découvreur de l’Amérique) est rebaptisée rue de la lutte pour l’indépendance des peuples colonisés, la rue Jules Ferry (homme d’Etat français connu notamment pour l’instauration de l’enseignement obligatoire, gratuit et laïc en 1881, partisan actif de l’expansion coloniale) en rue #René_Vautier (réalisateur et scénariste anticolonialiste, connu notamment pour son film Avoir vingt ans dans les Aurès), la rue #Paul_Bert (médecin et ministre de la 3ème République qui a porté l’instruction publique, laïque gratuite pour tous, soutien de la colonisation) en rue #Lalla_Fatma_N’Soumer (figure du mouvement de résistance à la colonisation de l’Algérie), la rue #François_Mitterrand (président de la République de 1981 à 1995) en rue #Aroua_Keïta (figure de l’indépendantisme, du syndicalisme et du féminisme au Mali) et la place du 8 mai 1945 en 8 Mai 1945 jour de fête : victoire contre le nazisme Jour de deuil : #massacres_coloniaux à #Setif, #Guelma et #Kherrata.

    Pétition et tribune pour rebaptiser les rues

    Pour donner suite à cette marche, le collectif Abyayala lance une pétition sur Change.org pour demander à la mairie de changer le nom de la rue Christophe Colomb. “Loin du mythe du valeureux « découvreur des Indes », Christophe Colomb fut la main armée des volontés d’expansion du Vieux Monde. Son arrivée de l’autre côté de l’océan Atlantique en 1492 est le début de la colonisation européenne sur le continent américain, pose le collectif. Contrairement aux croyances inculquées, le continent n’était ni vierge, ni inhabité et certainement pas à disposition. L’Amérique n’a pas été découverte mais envahie. Cette entreprise se déroula de façon violente, les indigènes furent massacré·es, violé·es, spolié·es de leurs terres et de leurs identités.” Voir la pétition qui a recueilli à ce jour une centaine de signatures : https://www.change.org/p/mairie-d-ivry-sur-seine-pourquoi-une-rue-christophe-colomb-%C3%A0-ivry-sur-s ?

    Les élus du groupe CCI (membre de la majorité municipale) appuient de leur côté la démarche dans l’espace de libre expression qui leur est dévolu dans le numéro de février du magazine municipal. “A peine 5% des rues rendent hommage à des femmes, l’héritage des luttes anticoloniales et contre l’esclavage ou encore l’histoire de l’immigration sont quasi absents”, déplorent Ratiba Meddas et Mehrez Mraidi dans leur tribune. “La rue du 17 octobre 1961 est attendue depuis plus de 10 ans, l’esclavage et la colonisation peinent parfois à être considérés comme ce qu’ils sont, des crimes contre l’humanité,… Pire, il reste dans notre espace urbain la trace de figures historiques associées à ces crimes”, poursuivent-ils, invitant la municipalité à “accompagner ce travail critique sur le passé et ses conséquences sur le présent” et “mettre davantage en valeur les figures émancipatrices issues de ces histoires.”

    “Une #honte faite à la République”

    Pour Sébastien Bouillaud (LR), conseiller municipal d’opposition, cette marche “est une honte faite à la République” et l’élu fustige l’initiative dans une tribune signée sur Ivry Off, un site qui se revendique comme un “blog alternatif” qui “assume son ton critique à l’égard des gestionnaires et élus de la cité.” Pour l’élu d’opposition, la marche “aurait dû être interdite et condamnée par le maire, qui par la même occasion aurait dû sanctionner les élus qui y ont participé.”

    L’élu durcit ensuite le ton vis-à-vis du groupe Convergence Citoyenne Ivryenne (CCI). “Les élus de ce collectif profitent d’ailleurs régulièrement de la tribune du conseil municipal pour déclamer des discours communautaires qui n’ont rien à faire en son sein. Au fur et à mesure que l’islamo-gauchisme prospère à Ivry, la République recule”, estime le conseiller d’opposition qui considère que “les commémorations publiques deviennent des lieux de division plus que de rassemblement” et “des lieux de diffusion de messages politiques où l’extrême gauche peut critiquer encore et toujours la République et le capitalisme”, “occasion de flatter telles ou telles communautés pour des raisons électoralistes.” Et l’élu de conclure son propos par “La question qui se pose aujourd’hui est bien évidemment dans quel état Ivry sera-t-elle dans 5 ans ? Mais surtout, à quel point la majorité en place sert-elle des causes obscures voire anti-républicaines ?”
    “La honte de la République, c’est l’histoire coloniale”

    C’est dans ce contexte que le débat s’est invité en Conseil municipal, la majorité faisant usage du droit de poser une question au maire prévu par le règlement intérieur, pour lui demander de réagir publiquement à cette tribune. C’est Bernard Prieur, adjoint à la citoyenneté, qui porte la question, fustigeant “des dénonciations calomnieuses” et “un discours de division”. Pour rappel, la question au maire, qui ne constitue pas une délibération soumise au vote, appelle une réponse du maire sans qu’elle soit suivie de débat. En réponse, le maire, Philippe Bouyssou (PCF) fait part de son étonnement sur la forme de la tribune. “Je ne l’avais jamais entendu tenir des propos aussi violents et réactionnaires à notre égard”, et dénonce une manœuvre de division. “La honte de la République, c’est l’histoire coloniale, ce-sont ses vols, ses pillages, ses expropriations, ses crimes, ses viols, ses massacres commis au nom de la quête du profit et d’une soi-disant race supérieure”, poursuit l’édile, citant des propos Jules Ferry justifiant la colonisation de “barbares” à “civiliser” avant de conclure en invitant à “l’apaisement”, et en demandant à Sébastien Bouillaud de retirer sa tribune.

    Alors que l’intéressé souhaite réagir, le maire lui donne la parole, indiquant que c’est à titre “exceptionnel”, par rapport aux modalités prévues pour les questions aux maire dans le règlement intérieur.

    “Si je me suis permis d’écrire cette tribune c’est car j’ai vu circuler des vidéos montrant des propos terribles sur la France qui m’ont choqué et heurté. Je veux bien qu’on lance un débat sur l’histoire de France mais pas de cette façon là”, répond donc Sébastien Bouillaud invitant à un débat apaisé.
    Quand le débat sur la marche décoloniale est déporté sur le terrorisme islamiste

    Philippe Hardouin, conseiller d’opposition du groupe LREM demande alors aussi la parole et embraye sans transition sur la question du terrorisme islamiste, faisant implicitement un lien direct entre les deux sujets. “Pour nous l”ennemi, c’est le fanatisme religieux”, résume-t-il en poursuivant sur le séparatisme et la nécessité d’un débat sur la laïcité jusqu’à ce que le maire lui demande d’arrêter de parler, lui indiquant que sa réaction est “complètement hors sujet”. Philippe Hardouin, lui, souhaite poursuivre mais le micro lui est coupé. “Je vous félicite d’avoir coupé le micro, c’est un signe de faiblesse”, réagit-il. “Il n’y a autour de moi ni communautariste, ni islamiste, ni islamogauchiste. Il n’y a ici que des Ivryennes et des Ivryens et j’aimerais que chacun se respecte”, conclut le maire.

    Alors que le point suivant de l’ordre du jour est à l’initiative de Sabrina Sebaihi, adjointe écologiste, celle-ci demande une suspension de séance. “Je suis très gênée par le débat de ce soir”, motive l’élue, visiblement émue.

    “Nous n’avons plus rien à faire dans ce Conseil ce soir”, reprendra Philippe Hardouin au moment de la reprise de séance, quittant la salle avec les élus du groupe LREM et du groupe de Sébastien Bouillaud.

    La séance s’est ensuite prolongée jusqu’à 2 heures du matin, le temps d’épuiser l’ordre du jour.

    https://94.citoyens.com/2021/ivry-sur-seine-clash-en-conseil-municipal-suite-aux-reactions-a-la-bala

    #toponymie #colonisation #colonialisme #toponymie_politique #France #noms_de_rue

    ping @cede

    • Pour faire suite à cet article :

      Une tribune du maire de Ivry dans Regards :
      Philippe Bouyssou, Maire PCF d’Ivry-sur-Seine, invité de la Midinale de Regards, mercredi 24 mars 2021.

      Il faut enseigner la culture de la paix et de la tolérance

      Sur la marche décoloniale à Ivry-sur-Seine
      « Cette marche décoloniale est une initiative libre, démocratique et citoyenne donc je ne me sens pas en tant que maire d’une commune la volonté de contrôler ou d’interdire quoi que ce soit sur le territoire de ma commune. »
      « Les habitants d’Ivry-sur-Seine sont issus de l’immigration majoritairement d’Afrique du Nord et d’Afrique subsaharienne - avec beaucoup de maliens - et ça a accéléré la tension autour de ces questions. »
      « Aux dernières municipales, on a ouvert nos listes à un tiers de citoyens en demandant aux gens de nous dire qui ils aimeraient voir siéger au conseil municipal : les jeunes, de manière vraiment massive et impressionnante, se sont saisis de cette opportunité et ils ont proposé à des copains, des responsables d’associations ou des jeunes de leurs cités. »
      « On a le conseil municipal qui compte en proportion le plus de binationaux et c’est révélateur de notre société qui est multiculturelle. »
      « On est une ville populaire, métissée et solidaire. »

      Sur la question raciale et la question sociale
      « Il faut arrêter de se diviser entre les blancs et les moins blancs, les blancs et les pas blancs, je m’en fiche complètement : on est tous ensemble dans la même société. Et comme je suis communiste, j’ai tendance à penser que la lutte des classes a encore du sens. »
      « La loi séparatisme est une absurdité totale. »
      « Si danger il y a, c’est qu’on est en face de deux projets de société : il y a un projet de société que j’essaie de porter, celui d’une société du tout ensemble dans une société métissée, qui s’enrichit des différences des uns et des autres. Et puis il y a une vision de la société réactionnaire et restrictive. »
      « Il y a un problème sur la vision qu’on peut avoir les uns et les autres de la laïcité avec une instrumentalisation de la laïcité. »

      Sur les conséquences du débat public et les tensions que ça peut générer
      « Il n’y a pas de tensions interculturelles dans la ville d’Ivry. Je prends un exemple : on a la chance d’avoir une synagogue dans le centre-ville d’Ivry (…). Je note aucune agression antisémite ces dernières années. »
      « Tous les ans à Ivry-sur-Seine, pendant une semaine, on fait la semaine de la mémoire du génocide des juifs et des tsiganes, de la lutte contre toutes les discriminations et de la prévention des crimes contre l’humanité. On le fait en partenariat avec les enseignants et l’Education nationale (…). Ça fait 17 ans qu’on organise cet événement et j’ai l’impression que cet enseignement de la culture de la paix et de la tolérance, d’un rapport riche à l’autre, laisse des traces positives. »
      « Je note aucun conflit dans l’espace public. Il y a des conflits de bandes par moments entre cités et quartiers mais ça n’a rien d’inter-ethnique. »

      Sur les réunions non-mixtes
      « Je ne suis pas du tout d’accord [avec le fait que le PCF parle d’enfermement identitaire de l’UNEF]. »
      « Je n’ai pas d’opinion sur le fait que ceux qui se sentent victimes de discrimination et qui ont des choses en commun ressentent le besoin de se voir entre eux pour en causer. »
      « Je suis homosexuel et il a pu m’arriver, dans d’aller dans des assos gays : selon la manière dont on vit les discriminations, on peut à mon moment avoir envie de se retrouver entre personnes qui vivent les mêmes discriminations pour en causer. »
      « Je suis pour l’intersectionnalité des luttes, pour que toutes les luttes contre les discriminations et qui visent à la libération se rejoignent. »
      « J’aimerais bien entendre tous les gens qui accusent l’UNEF d’avoir organisé des réunions entre racisés ou entre filles, se prononcer sur les loges maçonniques non-mixtes… »

      Sur le PCF et les luttes antiracistes
      « Un parti qui a 100 ans a forcément une histoire longue. »
      « On n’a pas changé d’appellation à chaque fois que les mentalités ont évolué : on est resté le PCF. »
      « Dans l’histoire du PCF, il y a des zones d’ombre et il faut les assumer. A la fin des années 70, début 1980, on a fait de grosses conneries et on a pris un retard considérable et on n’a pas vu ce qui était en train de bouger dans la société et ça nous a mis hors-jeu de plein de choses. Le dire, c’est l’assumer et l’analyser. »
      « A Ivry, il y a eu des quotas sur les colonies de vacances parce qu’il fallait qu’il n’y ait pas trop d’enfants d’immigrés et parce que l’on considérait que c’était aux villes communistes d’accueillir toutes les populations migrantes. »
      « Le Parti communiste a beaucoup progressé sur ces questions [antiracistes]. »
      « J’ai été très déçu que la moitié du groupe communiste [à l’Assemblée nationale] se contente de s’abstenir sur le projet de loi séparatisme. Et je remercie les députés communistes qui ont voté contre : j’ai été soulagé de voir qu’il y avait des camarades communistes dans le groupe parlementaire. Je ne m’explique pas comment les autres ont pu s’abstenir… Celle d’André Chassaigne par exemple ne m’a pas convaincu du tout ! Je suis en complet désaccord… Comme quoi, même chez les communistes, il y a de la diversité, c’est normal. »

      Sur la situation liée au Covid
      « On est dans une phase d’anxiété, de ras-le-bol et de déprime. »
      « Ce qui est le plus insupportable, c’est l’attente avec une épée de Damoclès au-dessus de la tête, de chaque prise de parole du Premier ministre. »
      « Ils vont faire de grands vaccinodromes mais ça ne va pas faire la maille : ça ne va remplir qu’une toute petite partie des besoins de couverture de l’immunité collective. »
      « Il faut réquisitionner des entreprises et fabriquer des lignes de vaccins. »
      « Il faut déclencher un plan d’urgence pour les hôpitaux parce que, malheureusement, des pandémies, il y en aura d’autres. »
      « Je veux que l’on réouvre les cinémas, les théâtres et les musées parce que c’est vital pour les gens. »

      L’entretien est disponible sur youtube : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HzxJ0lZUG_0

  • Making sense of silenced #archives: #Hume, Scotland and the ‘debate’ about the humanity of Black people

    Last September, the University of Edinburgh found itself at the centre of international scrutiny after temporarily renaming the #David_Hume Tower (now referred to by its street designation 40 George Square). The decision to rename the building, and hold a review on the way forward, prompted much commentary – a great deal of which encouraged a reckoning on what David Hume means to the University, its staff and students. These ideas include the full extent of Hume’s views on humanity, to establish whether he maintained any possible links (ideological or participatory) in the slave trade, and the role of Scotland in the African slave trade.

    Hume’s belief that Black people were a sub-human species of lower intellectual and biological rank to Europeans have rightfully taken stage in reflecting whether his values deserve commemoration on a campus. “I am apt to suspect the negroes and in general all other species of men (for there are four or five different kinds) to be naturally inferior to the whites. […] No ingenious manufactures amongst them, no arts, no sciences.” The full link to the footnote can be found here.

    Deliberations are split on whether statues and buildings are being unfairly ‘targeted’ or whether the totality of ideas held by individuals whose names are commemorated by these structures stand in opposition to a modern university’s values. Depending on who you ask, the debate over the tower fluctuates between moral and procedural. On the latter, it must be noted the University has in the past renamed buildings at the behest of calls for review across specific points in history. The Hastings ‘Kamuzu’ Banda building on Hill Place was quietly renamed in 1995, with no clarity on whether there was a formal review process at the time. On the moral end, it is about either the legacy or demythologization of David Hume.

    Some opposing the name change argue against applying present moral standards to judge what was not recognised in the past. Furthermore, they point to the archives to argue that prior to the 1760s there is scant evidence that Scots were not anything more than complicit to the slave trade given the vast wealth it brought.

    I argue against this and insist that the African experience and the engaged intellectual abolition movement deserves prominence in this contemporary debate about Hume.

    For to defend ‘passive complicity’ is to undermine both the Africans who rose in opposition against their oppression for hundreds of years and the explicit goals of white supremacy. For access to mass acquisition of resources on inhabited land requires violent dispossession of profitable lands and forced relocation of populations living on them. The ‘moral justification’ of denying the humanity of the enslaved African people has historically been defended through the strategic and deliberate creation of ‘myths’ – specifically Afrophobia – to validate these atrocities and to defend settler colonialism and exploitation. Any intellectual inquiry of the renaming of the tower must take the genuine concern into account: What was David Hume’s role in the strategic myth-making about African people in the Scottish imagination?

    If we are starting with the archives as evidence of Scottish complicity in the slave trade, why ignore African voices on this matter? Does the Scottish archive adequately represent the African experience within the slave trade? How do we interpret their silence in the archives?

    Decolonisation, the process Franz Fanon described as when “the ‘thing’ colonised becomes a human through the very process of liberation”, offers a radical praxis through which we can interrogate the role of the archive in affirming or disregarding the human experience. If we establish that the 18th century Scottish archive was not invested in preserving ‘both sides’ of the debate’, then the next route is to establish knowledge outside of a colonial framework where the ideology, resistance and liberation of Africans is centred. That knowledge is under the custodianship of African communities, who have relied on intricate and deeply entrenched oral traditions and practices which are still used to communicate culture, history, science and methods.

    To reinforce a point raised by Professor Tommy Curry, the fact that Africans were aware of their humanity to attempt mutiny in slave ships (Meermin & Amistad) and to overthrow colonial governance (the Haitian revolution) amidst the day-to-day attempts to evade slave traders is enough to refute the insistence that the debates must centre around what Scots understood about the slave trade in the 18th century.

    To make sense of these gaps in my own research, I have broadly excavated the archival records in Scotland if only to establish that a thorough documentation of the African-led resistance to Scottish participation in the slave trade and colonialism cannot be located in the archives.

    Dr David Livingstone (1813–1873), whose writing documenting the slave trade across the African Great Lakes galvanized the Scottish public to take control of the region to be named the Nyasaland Protectorate, would prove to be a redemptive figure in Scotland’s reconsideration of its role in the slave trade. However, in 1891, 153 years after Hume wrote his footnote, Sir Harry Hamilton Johnston (1858–1927), the first British colonial administrator of Nyasaland, would re-inforce similar myths about the ‘British Central African’: “to these [negroes] almost without arts and sciences and the refined pleasures of the senses, the only acute enjoyment offered them by nature is sexual intercourse”. Even at that time, the documented resistance is represented by Scottish missionaries who aimed to maintain Nyasaland under their sphere of control.

    Filling in the gaps that the archives cannot answer involves more complex and radical modalities of investigation.

    I rely on locally-recognised historians or documenters within communities, who preserve their histories, including the slave trade, through methodically structured oral traditions. The legacy of both the Arab and Portuguese slave trade and British colonialism in Nyasaland remains a raw memory, even though there are no precise indigenous terms to describe these phenomena.

    I have visited and listened to oral histories about the importance of ‘ancestor caves’ where families would conduct ceremonies and celebrations out of view to evade the slave catchers. These are the stories still being told about how children were hidden and raised indoors often only taken outside at night, keeping silent to escape the eyes and ears of the catchers. Embedded in these historical narratives are didactic tales, organised for ease of remembrance for the survival of future generations.
    Despite what was believed by Hume and his contemporaries, the arts and sciences have always been intrinsic in African cultural traditions. Decolonising is a framework contingent upon recognising knowledge productions within systems that often will never make their way into archival records. It centres the recognition and legitimization of the ways in which African people have collected and shared their histories.

    The knowledge we learn from these systems allows us to reckon with both the silence of archives and the fallacies of myth-making about African people.

    At very least, these debates should lead to investigations to understand the full extent of Hume’s participation in the dehumanization of enslaved Africans, and the role he played to support the justification for their enslavement.

    https://www.race.ed.ac.uk/making-sense-of-silenced-archives-hume-scotland-and-the-debate-about-the-
    #Édimbourg #toponymie #toponymie_poltique #Ecosse #UK #Edinburgh #David_Hume_Tower #esclavage #histoire #mémoire #Kamuzu_Banda #colonialisme #imaginaire #décolonisation #Nyasaland #Nyasaland_Protectorate #histoire_orale #archives #mythes #mythologie #déshumanisation

    ping @cede @karine4 @isskein

    • Hastings Banda

      The #University_of_Edinburgh renamed the Hastings ‘Kamuzu’ Banda building on #Hill_Place in the 1990s. Whilst fellow independence leader and Edinburgh alumni #Julius_Nyerere is still regarded as a saint across the world, #Banda died with an appalling record of human rights abuses and extortion – personally owning as much as 45% of #Malawi’s GDP. There are no plaques in Edinburgh commemorating #Kamuzu, and rightly so.

      Banda’s time in Edinburgh does, however, give us a lens through which to think about the University and colonial knowledge production in the 1940s and ‘50s; how numerous ‘fathers of the nation’ who led African independence movements were heavily involved in the linguistic, historical and anthropological codification of their own people during the late colonial period; why a cultural nationalist (who would later lead an anti-colonial independence movement) would write ‘tracts of empire’ whose intended audience were missionaries and colonial officials; and how such tracts reconciled imagined modernities and traditions.

      Fellow-Edinburgh student Julius Nyerere showed considerable interest in the ‘new science’ of anthropology during his time in Scotland, and #Jomo_Kenyatta – the first president of independent Kenya – penned a cutting-edge ethnography of the #Kikuyu whilst studying under #Malinowski at the LSE, published as Facing Mount Kenya in 1938. Banda himself sat down and co-edited Our African Way of Life, writing an introduction outlining Chewa and broader ‘Maravi’ traditions, with the Edinburgh-based missionary anthropologist T. Cullen Young in 1944.

      Before arriving in Edinburgh in 1938, Banda had already furthered his education in the US through his expertise on Chewa language and culture: Banda was offered a place at the University of Chicago in the 1930s on the strength of his knowledge of chiChewa, with Mark Hana Watkins’s 1937 A Grammar of Chichewa: A Bantu Language of British Central Africa acknowledging that “All the information was obtained from Kamuzu Banda, a native Chewa, while he was in attendance at the University of Chicago from 1930 to 1932”, and Banda also recorded ‘together with others’ four Chewa songs for Nancy Cunard’s Negro Anthology. In Britain in 1939 he was appointed as adviser to the Malawian chief, Mwase Kasungu, who spent six months at the London University of Oriental and African Languages to help in an analysis of chiNyanja; an experience that “must have reinforced” Banda’s “growing obsession with his Chewa identity” (Shepperson, 1998).

      Banda in Edinburgh

      In Edinburgh, Banda shifted from being a source of knowledge to a knowledge producer – a shift that demands we think harder about why African students were encouraged to Edinburgh in the first place and what they did here. Having already gained a medical degree from Chicago, Banda was primarily at Edinburgh to convert this into a British medical degree. This undoubtedly was Banda’s main focus, and the “techniques of men like Sir John Fraser electrified him, and he grew fascinated with his subject in a way which only a truly dedicated man can” (Short, 1974, p.38).

      Yet Banda also engaged with linguistic and ethnographic codification, notably with the missionary anthropologist, T Cullen Young. And whilst black Edinburgh doctors were seen as key to maintaining the health of colonial officials across British Africa in the 19th century, black anthropologists became key to a “more and fuller understanding of African thought and longings” (and controlling an increasingly agitative and articulate British Africa) in the 20th century (Banda & Young, 1946, p.27-28). Indeed, having acquired ‘expertise’ and status, it is also these select few black anthropologists – Banda, Kenyatta and Nyerere – who led the march for independence across East and Central Africa in the 1950s and 60s.

      Banda was born in c.1896-1989 in Kasungu, central Malawi. He attended a Scottish missionary school from the age 8, but having been expelled from an examination in 1915, by the same T Cullen Young he would later co-author with, Banda left Malawi and walked thousands of miles to South Africa. Banda came to live in Johannesburg at a time when his ‘Nyasa’ cousin, Clements Musa Kadalie was the ‘most talked about native in South Africa’ and the ‘uncrowned king of the black masses’, leading Southern Africa’s first black mass movement and major trade union, the Industrial and Commercial Workers’ Union (ICU).

      Banda was friends with Kadalie, and may have been involved with the Nyasaland Native National Congress which was formed around 1918-1919 with around 100 members in Johannesburg, though no record of this remains. Together, Banda and Kadalie were the two leading Malawian intellectuals of the first half of the twentieth century and, in exploring the type of ‘colonial knowledge’ produced by Africans in Edinburgh, it is productive to compare their contrasting accounts of ‘African history’.

      In 1927 Kadalie wrote an article for the British socialist journal Labour Monthly entitled ‘The Old and the New Africa’. Charting a pre-capitalist Africa, Kadalie set out that the

      “white men came to Africa of their own free will, and told my forefathers that they had brought with them civilisation and Christianity. They heralded good news for Africa. Africa must be born again, and her people must discard their savagery and become civilised people and Christians. Cities were built in which white and black men might live together as brothers. An earthly paradise awaited creation…They cut down great forests; cities were built, and while the Christian churches the gospel of universal brotherhood, the industrialisation of Africa began. Gold mining was started, and by the close of the nineteenth century European capitalism had made its footing firm in Africa….The churches still preached universal brotherhood, but capitalism has very little to do with the ethics of the Nazerene, and very soon came a new system of government in Africa with ‘Law and Order’ as its slogan.” (Kadalie, 1927).

      Banda’s own anthropological history, written 17 years later with Cullen Young, is a remarkably different tale. Banda and Young valorise the three authors within the edited volume as fossils of an ideal, isolated age, “the last Nyasalanders to have personal touch with their past; the last for whom the word ‘grandmother’ will mean some actually remembered person who could speak of a time when the land of the Lake knew no white man” (Banda & Young, 1946, p7). Already in 1938, Banda was beginning to develop an idea for a Central African nation.

      Writing from the Edinburgh Students Union to Ernest Matako, he reflected: “the British, the French and the Germans were once tribes just as we are now in Africa. Many tribes united or combined to make one, strong British, French or German nation. In other words, we have to begin to think in terms of Nyasaland, and even Central Africa as a whole, rather than of Kasungu. We have to look upon all the tribes in Central Africa, whether in Nyasaland or in Rhodesia, as our brothers. Until we learn to do this, we shall never be anything else but weak, tiny tribes, that can easily be subdued.” (Banda, 1938).
      Banda after Edinburgh

      But by 1944, with his hopes of returning to Nyasaland as a medical officer thwarted and the amalgamation of Nyasaland and the Rhodesias into a single administrative unit increasingly on the cards, Banda appears to have been grounding this regional identity in a linguistic-cultural history of the Chewa, writing in Our African Way of Life: “It is practically certain that aMaravi ought to be the shared name of all these peoples; this carrying with it recognition of the Chewa motherland group as representing the parent stock of the Nyanja speaking peoples.” (Banda & Young, 1946, p10). Noting the centrality of “Banda’s part in the renaming of Nyasaland as Malawi”, Shepperson asked in 1998, “Was this pan-Chewa sentiment all Banda’s or had he derived it largely from the influence of Cullen Young? My old friend and collaborator, the great Central African linguist Thomas Price, thought the latter. But looking to Banda’s Chewa consciousness as it developed in Chicago, I am by no means sure of this.” Arguably it is Shepperson’s view that is vindicated by two 1938 letters unearthed by Morrow and McCracken in the University of Cape Town archives in 2012.

      In 1938, Banda concluded another letter, this time to Chief Mwase Kasungu: “I want you tell me all that happens there [Malawi]. Can you send me a picture of yourself and your council? Also I want to know the men who are the judges in your court now, and how the system works.” (Banda, 1938). Having acquired and reworked colonial knowledge from Edinburgh, Our African Way of Life captures an attempt to convert British colonialism to Banda’s own end, writing against ‘disruptive’ changes that he was monitoring from Scotland: the anglicisation of Chewa, the abandoning of initiation, and the shift from matriarchal relations. Charting and padding out ideas about a pan-Chewa cultural unit – critical of British colonialism, but only for corrupting Chewa culture – Banda was concerned with how to properly run the Nyasaland state, an example that productively smudges the ‘rupture’ of independence and explains, in part, neo-colonial continuity in independent Malawi.

      For whilst the authors of the edited works wrote their original essays in chiNyanja, with the hope that it would be reproduced for Nyasaland schools, the audience that Cullen Young and Banda addressed was that of the English missionary or colonial official, poised to start their ‘African adventure’, noting:

      “A number of important points arise for English readers, particularly for any who may be preparing to work in African areas where the ancient mother-right still operates.” (Banda & Cullen, 1946, p.11).

      After a cursory summary readers are directed by a footnote “for a fuller treatment of mother-right, extended kinship and the enjoined marriage in a Nyasaland setting, see Chaps. 5-8 in Contemporary Ancestors, Lutterworth Press, 1942.” (Banda & Young, 1946, p.11). In contrast to the authors who penned their essays so “that our children should learn what is good among our ancient ways: those things which were understood long ago and belong to their own people” the introduction to Our African Way of Life is arguably published in English, under ‘war economy standards’ in 1946 (post-Colonial Development Act), for the expanding number of British ‘experts’ heading out into the empire; and an attempt to influence their ‘civilising mission’. (Banda & Young, 1946, p.7).

      By the 1950s, Banda was fully-assured of his status as a cultural-nationalist expert – writing to a Nyasaland Provincial Commissioner, “I am in a position to know and remember more of my own customs and institutions than the younger men that you meet now at home, who were born in the later twenties and even the thirties…I was already old enough to know most of these customs before I went to school…the University of Chicago, which cured me of my tendency to be ashamed of my past. The result is that, in many cases, really, I know more of our customs than most of our people, now at home. When it comes to language I think this is even more true. for the average youngster [In Malawi] now simply uses what the European uses, without realising that the European is using the word incorrectly. Instead of correcting the european, he uses the word wrongly, himself, in order to affect civilisation, modernity or even urbanity.” (Shepperdson, 1998).

      This however also obscures the considerable investigatory correspondence that he engaged in whilst in Scotland. Banda was highly critical of indirect rule in Our African Way of Life, but from emerging archival evidence, he was ill-informed of the changing colonial situation in 1938.

      Kadalie and Banda’s contrasting histories were written at different times, in different historical contexts by two people from different parts of Nyasaland. Whilst Banda grew up in an area on the periphery of Scottish missionaries’ sphere of influence, Kadalie came from an area of Malawi, Tongaland, heavily affected by Scottish missionaries and his parents were heavily involved with missionary work. The disparity between the histories that they invoke, however, is still remarkable – Banda invokes a precolonial rural Malawi devoid of white influence, Kadalie on the other hand writes of a pre-capitalist rural Malawi where Christians, white and black, laboured to create a kingdom of heaven on earth – and this, perhaps, reflects the ends they are writing for and against.

      Kadalie in the 1920s looked to integrate the emerging African working class within the international labour movement, noting “capitalism recognises no frontiers, no nationality, and no race”, with the long-term view to creating a socialist commonwealth across the whole of Southern Africa. Britain-based Banda, writing with Cullen Young in the 1940s, by comparison, mapped out a pan-Chewa culture with the immediate aim of reforming colonial ‘protectorate’ government – the goal of an independent Malawian nation state still yet to fully form.

      http://uncover-ed.org/hastings-banda
      #Kenyatta