Curricula should not be decolonised based on partial historical knowledge

Students need to know the broad outlines of global imperial history if they are to judge claims for themselves. But, typically, they don’t, says Ian Pace

March 2, 2023
Montage of a guide and students in a museum to illustrate the Curricula should not be decolonised based on a partial grasp of history
Source: Getty/Alamy/istock montage

Since the 2015 Rhodes Must Fall campaign, calls to “decolonise the curriculum” have been ubiquitous within education, not least in former colonial powers whose modern populations contain groups with ancestry in colonised lands. Accordingly, there has been an admirable push to promote wider awareness of global histories, cultures, economics, legal systems, scientific developments and thought systems – as well as to consider these in the context of unequal power relationships.

On the other hand, some positions associated with “decolonisation” seem too didactic. They embrace straw-man representations of existing knowledge as semantically and politically homogeneous, expressing nothing but a blanket endorsement of colonial ideologies. So much so that supporters of the decolonisation agenda sometimes espouse simple inversions of colonial assumptions about the superiority of Western knowledge or culture. They can also assert the transcendental importance of one particular approach to interpretation, implying that alternatives entail complicity with colonial domination.

Take the claim by Rowena Arshad in a 2021 THE Campus article, “Decolonising the curriculum – how do I get started?”, that existing understandings of the world “have been grounded in cultural world views that have either ignored or been antagonistic to knowledge systems that sit outside those of the colonisers”. This makes for impressive rhetoric but overlooks the entire history of Western thinkers who have engaged constructively with forms of thought, culture or social organisation from Asia, Africa and Latin America. This includes some of the artists and intellectuals who were fascinated by the area once categorised as the “orient” – not all of whom adhered to imperialist views of the region.

The very meanings of “colonisation” and “empire” are far from straightforward even for formally constituted “empires”, as made clear by a comparison of the Umayyad Caliphate, the Holy Roman Empire and the British Empire. Other political entities not formally constituted as empires may have a comparable presence, as has been argued in the case of the modern-day US or China.

ADVERTISEMENT

The relationship is far from simple between histories of empire and slavery and other phenomena studied in established academic areas. Furthermore, to properly engage with this requires a level of contextual knowledge, as well as knowledge more directly related to the phenomena in question. This can create significant difficulties in teaching because students’ prior historical knowledge is often patchy.

I have over a long period taught core modules that consider music in its historical, social, ideological and cultural context, primarily from the mid-19th century in Europe and North America. The music includes everything from Russian nationalistic operas to African American spirituals as harmonised and promoted by white Americans, musical representations of – and borrowings from – Africa, abstract “formalist” compositions produced during the Cold War and the growth of competing genres of soul, funk and disco. The context includes 19th-century European nationalism, the “Scramble for Africa” and slavery in the US, as well as social developments accompanying Western industrialisation and factors leading to World Wars, genocide, gulags and the more literal decolonisation in the decades following 1945.

ADVERTISEMENT

However, it quickly became clear to me that students’ knowledge of this context cannot be assumed. To compensate, I have resorted to providing overviews of historical events (inevitably reflecting my own priorities and interpretations) before introducing students to the various musics in question. This is followed by basic discussions of existing interpretations of particular relationships, to facilitate students’ ability to consider such questions critically themselves.

Similarly, in a module on romantic aesthetics in music, art and literature, I preface discussion of orientalism and exoticism with a short overview of the history of colonialism and slavery involving the West – including the Al-Andalus and Ottoman Empires, alongside those centred in Britain, France, Spain, Portugal and Russia and so on.

Overall, judging by the quality of students’ work, this approach appears to have been successful. But the need to invest significant portions of teaching time to providing context underlines that some basic areas of socio-historical knowledge are not provided by secondary education. If they were, more advanced and nuanced tertiary study would be possible.

In the UK, prime minister Rishi Sunak recently announced his intention to require everyone to study some form of mathematics to the age of 18. I believe that improving school-leavers’ broad knowledge of global history (beyond the narrow nationalistic approaches urged by some politicians) is just as important as improving their mathematical abilities. Allowing pupils to drop history at age 13, unlike in other European countries, is not the way to facilitate that.

Ultimately, the prime minister’s intervention may lead to wider consideration of whether the existing A-level structure involves premature specialisation. Reforms would, in turn, necessitate an overhaul of university curricula to accommodate students who may enter their studies with greater experience of breadth than depth. But we should see this as a net gain.

In the case of “decolonisation”, students need to come to it with a wider knowledge of global empires and other key aspects of history. Otherwise, they will simply be reiterating ideologically approved reinterpretations of the past and its effect on knowledge without the capacity to critically assess these for themselves.

Ian Pace is professor of music and strategic adviser (arts) at City, University of London. He is writing in a personal capacity.

Register to continue

Why register?

  • Registration is free and only takes a moment
  • Once registered, you can read 3 articles a month
  • Sign up for our newsletter
Register
Please Login or Register to read this article.

Related articles

Reader's comments (7)

Excellent - well said.
Absolutely bang on!
Once again another article written by another person who doesn't understand what decolonising education/the curriculum is all about. The clue is here: "that existing understandings of the world “have been grounded in cultural world views that have either ignored or been antagonistic to knowledge systems that sit outside those of the colonisers”. This makes for impressive rhetoric but overlooks the entire history of Western thinkers who have engaged constructively with forms of thought, culture or social organisation from Asia, Africa and Latin America." It's not about engaging constructively, Ian, it's about looking at epistemologies and ontologies that have been erased, denied, destroyed. "This can create significant difficulties in teaching because students’ prior historical knowledge is often patchy." Ask yourself why it is patchy, and then ask yourself how education/schooling became like this. This is a slightly different topic (neoliberalism) yet it is one that is important, that decolonising attempts to counter (and decolonial thinking is not the only school of thought that seeks to counter the detrimental effects of capitalism which in its current form is neoliberal).
If you are going to hide behind a pseudonym, do not address me by my first name. The talk of 'epistemologies and ontologies that have been erased, denied, destroyed' is just performative rhetoric, like various of the claims in Arshad's article. If you want a constructive response, you should provide specifics, and do so in a manner which accords with established meanings of the philosophical concepts of 'epistemology' and 'ontology'. Constructive engagement is all-important for both academics and students, however much you dismiss it, if we are to be educators and thinkers, not just carriers of dogma. For those only interested in the latter, I would suggest some activist organisation is a better home than a university, which is a place of intellectual inquiry.
Just so. The study of history is about trying to discern what actually happened and what the people of the time thought about it. Only then can we get out a contemporary lens and point out how, given what society thinks these days, we might have done things differently. Hindsight has 20:20 vision. I always wonder what things that we all accept as normal now will cause our descendants 100 years hence to shriek in horror and say, "They did WHAT in the 2020s? How evil, how wicked. How could they ever have thought THAT was acceptable?"
Prompted mainly by m.robertson and as a non-historian, the question that occurs to me is when should (white?) British citizens cease to feel guilty and seek to atone for the slave trade, or when should (gentile?) German citizens do the same in relation to the holocaust? If ever? I hope no one places an alternative interpretation on what is a genuine question; it expresses no intended view on the topic here or any possible answer to the question. I do think that the question has some relation to questions of the moral legitimacy of punishment as raised by the philosopher Michael Zimmerman and so is worthy of consideration.
It's definitely a genuine and valid question. The very fact of grouping people by nation-state is itself questionable and historically a relatively recent phenomenon. Determining collective responsibility/guilt on this basis is no less questionable. Are the children to be punished for the sins of the fathers (or great-great-great grandparents)? Ultimately, I don't really see what collective guilt and atonement on this basis really achieves, other than a type of catharsis. When the King (when he was Prince of Wales) spoke of 'The appalling atrocity of the slave trade, and the unimaginable suffering it caused', which 'left an indelible stain on the history of our world', I think this was meaningful, as he was speaking as one of the leading representatives of that nation (whatever one thinks of the hereditary principle of monarchy, nonetheless at the moment he has assumed this role, and monarchs will continue unless there is major constitutional change). But ultimately we cannot erase history, and what is most important is surely (a) to ensure something like slavery does not happen again and try to halt it when it does (alas forms of less formalised slavery and people trafficking do continue to happen in various parts of the world); (b) to try and address global inequities which are part of the legacy of colonialism and slavery. The lack of global political authorities with real power hinders this (though the creation of more such things would likely cause as many problems as it would solve), so that the division of the world into nation states tends to mean that the citizens of such nation states will expect their governments to prioritise their own interests, not those of citizens elsewhere. This process is not absolute, for sure; Angela Merkel's decision to allow a million Syrian refugees to come to Germany was motivated as much by a sense of global responsibility (and awareness of perceptions of her own country) as necessarily because of the will of German citizens. The same can be said of programmes of international aid and development, or for that matter of nations to intervene militarily in conflicts where they may not have any interests of their own directly involved (though this is relatively infrequent). And some forms of global inequality do have geographical reasons too - some nations are rich in natural resources, from which they can profit; others are not. This is, combined with the size and impregnability of his country, a factor (though by no means the only one) in Vladimir Putin's having the power he does, or why there are some Nigerian citizens who are amongst the world's super-rich. In some cases those who through a mixture of good fortune and also seizing opportunities have been able to amass great wealth are prepared to use some of it to alleviate poverty elsewhere. But I cannot really imagine a situation in which the citizens of any developed country would collectively agree to a marked drop in their own average standard of living to alleviate the fortunes of those elsewhere in the world. Especially not in a democracy, for the reasons of grouping by nation-state mentioned before. To do so would be, I believe, the only meaningful outcome of collective guilt. Unspectacular efforts by inter-governmental organisations and some private benefactors to help those whose plight is at least in part a legacy of colonialism and slavery (at the behest of many powers over history, not just those in the West), through aid, infrastructural improvements, help with building trade, and so on, may be the most which can be realistically hoped for at present. Simply expressing a sense of collective guilt achieves very little in this respect, and can be little more than a performative ritual.

Sponsored

ADVERTISEMENT