How to show (and yet hide at the same time) linguistic diversity

There’s a great graphic making the rounds online:

Infographic: The Countries With The Most Spoken Languages | Statista

Which is fascinating: linguistic diversity lives in Papua New Guinea more than anywhere else in the world. Indonesia (boosted by West Papuan numbers as well as its own vast store of languages) holds down second spot. Nigeria, India, the USA and China are also leaders.

The graphic (and its source web page) shows something important: linguistic diversity. But it also conceals which are the most linguistically diverse regions by simply adding up the number of “living languages” spoken in each country. So the top countries, other than PNG, are mostly just the world’s largest countries (minus Japan, a country rarely accused of linguistic diversity).

Credit for the source data goes to Ethnologue‘s table of “living languages.” But scroll down and there’s a better measure of linguistic diversity that considers number of languages relative to the country’s size. PNG is still tops, cramming more than 10% of the world’s spoken languages into one country that takes up half of the incredibly diverse island of New Guinea. (The other half of the island is swallowed up in high-population Indonesia, though West Papua is also remarkably diverse – a factor that boosts its movement for independence from Indonesia.) But languages compared to total population? The most diverse list runs like this:

  1. Papua New Guinea
  2. Cameroon
  3. Vanuatu
  4. Solomon Islands
  5. Central African Republic

Run down the list further for many more African countries in high spots. Africa and the Pacific – and especially Melanesia, the “African Pacific” – dominate. The USA and China are well back, though India, Nigeria and Indonesia still display a high degree of diversity. In other words, the map like so many makes the world’s most powerful countries look more important on this measure than they really are. And of course it masks the dominance of a dominant majority language in both China and the USA.

Among “Western” countries, Canada is ranked with the highest linguistic diversity. Which raises another issue with the graphic: an erasing of Indigenous languages in the global North. The definition of “living language” is a language with at least one person speaking it as their first language. That, too, could begin to erase First Nations languages in Canada from the statistics even if they live on as the second language of significant numbers of people.

Ironically, Wikipedia maps it better (though small countries are still hard to see: Timor-Leste with a million people and at least 20 languages is invisible, for instance). Here’s their image of global linguistic diversity based on the same index used by Ethnologue:

Ethnologue_18_linguistic_diversity_index_BlankMap-World6.svg

Appealing to the League of Nations

The League of Nations can’t get no respect. Among academics this is changing, as researchers tell redemptive stories about the League and the end of empires or the emergence of international society in this period, for instance. But the League’s image, for those who think about it, still tends to be mostly that of the useless talking shop that could not prevent military aggressions leading up to the Second World War.

Back in the League’s day, though, it was the chosen court of appeal for people seeking independence during a “Wilsonian moment” of self-determination. That’s true even for people living in territories ruled by such “non-colonial” powers as Canada, New Zealand, and Turkey. A quick skim of League of Nations archival materials in Geneva reveals appeals to the League for justice from places as diverse as Korea (seeking freedom from Japan), the Grand River Territory of the Six Nations Confederacy (1924), the Maori of Aotearoa / New Zealand (1925), Turkish-controlled Kurdistan (1925), Scotland (1928), the Vietnamese community exiled in Thailand (1930), and Baluchistan (1933) from whence came the assertion that the Baluch people had always been independent, never part of India.

Documents can help tell these stories, and show that these claims for independence are far from new, that claims to be free from British imperial control pre-date the foundation of post-British states like Canada and New Zealand. (Thanks to Bishop’s University undergrad Matthew Robinson for research assistance in finding these documents in Geneva.)

6N

Some of the documents related to the appeal of the Six Nations Confederacy to the League in the early 1920s,  appear at a special blogspot site on the Six Nations Appeal that I created to support a forthcoming book chapter. This one shares documents from three archives on  how the Six Nations used images of ‘picturesque Indians’ to win European sympathy and the backing of the governments of Estonia, Ireland, Panama and Persia (a collection of countries without much in common other than a sympathy for the Six Nations cause and an unimpressed attitude towards Canada’s actions at the League).

drummondThere are many more.

When a Maori delegation arrived in Geneva in 1924 asking to see League Secretary-General Sir Eric Drummond, he dodged the group and asked a subordinate to deliver the bad news that the League could not help them – but not before noting the case was “very similar to that of the Chief of the ‘Six Peoples'” in its nature.

One that resonates the most may be from a group of Kurds in Baghdad, then controlled by the British Empire. The Kurdish appeal speaks of terrors committed by the Turkish government upon Kurds living in Turkey. The petitioners to the League felt the “national existence” of the Kurdish people was in threat from “ignoble killings” and asked “the civilized world” to help end “the bloody violence of the Turks against our oppressed nation.”

kurdistanTime heals no wounds: these are mostly ongoing struggles, whether non-violent (Six Nations or Scotland) or all too violent (as in the case of the Kurds in Turkey). If the League had been able to provide justice, or even a hearing, might these disputes have been less visceral today?

Student essays on truth commissions

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Bishop’s University students in my course on Memory, Truth and Reconciliation have written one of the textbooks for the next time the course is taught: Memory, Truth and Reconciliation in 16 Countries. They produced some fine essays – worth collecting in book form, and originally published on Wikipedia, thanks to a collaboration with the Wiki Education Foundation.

As with everything on Wikipedia, essays can be read free via the course web page – click to access the dashboard.

December 1: a foundational moment in Papuan nationalism

On December 1, 1961, West Papuan nationalists raised a new flag bearing the morning star emblem and sang a new anthem. In fabric and music, they hoped to sing a new nation into being.

The land of Papua, located where Indonesia fades into the Melanesian Pacific, never gained its independence. Papuan nationalist leaders of the early 1960s hoped that their homeland, then still a Dutch colony, would follow the wave of decolonization sweeping Africa. They even called their country a “new Africa” and their people “the negroids of the Pacific.” Instead, the Kennedy administration in the United States brokered a deal that saw the land of Papua transferred to Indonesian rule.

Yet December 1 remains a foundational moment in the West Papuan nationalism that still persists after more than 50 years of Indonesian rule. In 1999, it was hailed as a bright shining moment when Papuans had, in many ways, declared their independence. The Papuan nationalists of 1999 argued that they were “already sovereign as a people and as a nation,” and had been 1961, when their fore-runners raised the morning star flag and sang the new anthem.

2015 was no different: Papuan students rallied in Jakarta, the Indonesian capital. “We also wanted to retell that since December 1, 1961, Papua should’ve been independent,” one protester told Tempo magazine.

I wrote about the significance of December 1 as a foundational moment in Papuan nationalism in the wake of the day’s resurrection as nationalist touchstone at the turn of the century: D. Webster, “Already Sovereign as a People: A Foundational Moment in West Papuan Nationalism,” Pacific Affairs 74.4 (2001): 507-528 (archiving on autor web site permiotted after embargo, copyright Pacific Affairs):

Webster, Already Sovereign as a People

Some of this is out of date, but the significance of the day and the history remains. New Zealand activist and researcher Maire Leadbetter offers an updated historical overview today to mark the 54th anniversary of the original December 1 moment.

This is not an issue that is going away. Nationalism is persistent, and it echoes through the generations on such days of memory.

1965 killings in Indonesia: evidence from Canadian documents

Originally published by the East Timor and Indonesia Action Network at http://etanaction.blogspot.ca/  as “1965: Evidence from Canadian documents” by David Webster

At a time when the Indonesian government seems to be clamping down on discussion of the mass killings of 1965, it’s more important than ever to share documentary evidence about the wave of violence that swept Indonesia 50 years ago and brought the Suharto military dictatorship to power.

The events of 1965 are not just an Indonesian story. In the words of a recent book co-edited by Indonesian scholar Baskara Wardaya SJ and international scholar Bernd Schaefer: “So far the international dimension of those events is hardly explored. Although they were domestic by execution, they were also firmly embedded into the global Cold War.”

Fifty years ago an army-led campaign of brutality targeted hundreds of thousands of Indonesians accused of being left-wingers in sympathy with the Indonesian Communist Party (PKI). The killings started with a coup and counter-coup, and were encouraged by the US embassy’s provision of names to the army. As American government documents published in 2001 reveal, the Johnson administration had severed most American ties to President Sukarno’s government, preferring to work with the Indonesian army.

The true extent of American involvement in the Indonesian regime change and mass killings of 1965 is a story still to be written. Increasingly, there seems to be evidence that those once accused of being “conspiracy theorists” were right on many scores. Peter Dale Scott, a former Canadian diplomat who became a professor of English in California, is one of the most prominent of those figures, and has recently written a retrospective on his seminal article on US complicity in the events of 1965, forty years after its first publication.

Many State Department documents have been released. But many more remain hidden. American government documents are normally declassified on a fixed cycle and the key documents published in the series Foreign Relations of the United States. When the time came to release the FRUS volume dealing with Indonesia in 1965, the government stalled on releasing of the volume.

That’s why ETAN/US has launched a campaign for a full declassification of all the United States government documents and a US government acknowledgement of the American role in aiding and abetting the 1965 killings.

In the face of this withholding of information, it may be worth checking the files of more distant and less involved governments. Below I share some documents declassified by the Library and Archives Canada, part of the files of Canada’s Department of External Affairs. They reveal that Western governments had been aware of coup planning by the Indonesian army months before the actual coup; that Western governments did not initially believe the PKI was involved, but encouraged the army to attack the PKI regardless; that Canada’s government was one of those that did nothing to deter the mass killings – even with an estimate by the Indonesian ambassador in early 1966 that half a million people were already dead; and that the restoration of foreign aid to the new military regime of General Suharto was designed to anchor Indonesia into the Western side in the Cold War rather than aiming at humanitarian relief. Canada was a minor but well-informed player. Like other Western governments, it was pleased to see the Indonesian army take power, and indifferent to the enormous death toll that aided that path to power.

Many accounts depict the coup attempt of October 1, 1965, as a surprise that caught Western governments unaware. But in fact, coup talk had been around for some time. In June 1965, for instance, the prime minister of Malaysia informed diplomats from Britain, Canada, Australia and New Zealand that that Indonesia’s ambassador, a noted anti-communist, had told him that the army planned to get Sukarno out of the country and have him held hostage while it destroyed the PKI. PM Tunku Abdul Rahman said his information was that the Indonesian army “had decided time had come for drastic action to save country from Communist take-over. Army leaders were plotting to get Soekarno out of country and to hold him ‘if necessary at pistol point’ while army suppressed Communists and established pro-Western Govt.” The Tunku thought that the story might be fabricated, but also suspected the hand of the United States behind the army’s alleged plans.

2.KL 380.PDF

When, as September turned to October, soldiers led by Lt.-Col. Untung struck at the army command, capturing and killing top generals, General Suharto was quick to blame the PKI. Army-orchestrated massacres began soon after. The evidence shows that the “Old Commonwealth countries” put little faith in the claim that Untung’s coup was masterminded by the PKI. “As far as Brits could learn,” a Canadian diplomat in London wrote after meeting the responsible official at the Foreign Office, “Untung himself was not Communist and there was no firm evidence that Sep. 30 movement was inspired by Communists.” The British official reportedly told his Canadian counterpart: “Although it was tempting to believe that army would take advantage of present opportunity as excuse to deliver really crushing blow to Communists, unfortunately there were signs already that this was not likely to happen…” The hopes of the British Foreign Office, in other words, lay parallel to those of the US State department as already revealed in US documents – that the army would seize the chance to destroy the PKI. Their fears were that the army lacked the resolve or the capacity to carry out this task.

5.London 3971.PDF

In information-gathering about the coup, Canada’s mission in Tokyo similarly learned that the Japanese government assessment was also that there was no PKI involvement. “There was no evidence of sufficient prior planning to indicate organized effort by PKI,” a report stated. In a subsequent report, Japanese officials expressed a “low opinion of [the Indonesian army’s] admin[istrative] capacity and honesty” and predicted that they thought the army would do a poor job of governing Indonesia.

8. Tokyo 697ff.PDF

Increasingly in the final months of 1965, the army command took the reins of government and encouraged violence against PKI members and others. By January 1966, the army-dominated government in Jakarta was ready to ask for foreign aid. The Canadian response to an Indonesian request to resume aid, which Canada had ended in 1964, was cautious to a fault. Ottawa planned to consult its major allies before acting, but noted that aid “might provide a means by which Indonesia could be drawn back into corporate international life.” Short-term relief, delivered ideally through the United Nations and its specialized agencies, might help ensure that the new regime in Jakarta would be pro-Western.

22.Y-3.PDF

What is striking in Canadian embassy reporting from Jakarta in the last months of 1965 and the early months of 1966 is the lack of attention to killings engulfing parts of the country. One embassy report opened with a declaration that the major challenges in Indonesian domestic affairs were led by high prices and inflation. Ironically, it took the Indonesian ambassador to Canada to put an estimate of the death toll of record. In his last call in Ottawa before being recalled to Jakarta, Ambassador L.N. Palar, speaking with “great frankness,” said that half a million people might have been killed by January 1966. Palar was one of the most respected members of Indonesia’s diplomatic corps – he had led the insurgent Indonesian independence delegation at the UN in the 1940s and then Indonesia’s UN delegation and been ambassador in Washington. His views, therefore, carried weight. His estimate was that the official estimate of 87,000 dead “was on the conservative side; speaking personally he would not be surprised if the tally came closer to 500,000.”

27.Y-65.PDF

This death toll did not alter Canadian views. Indeed, the Canadian ambassador in Jakarta, like US colleagues, lamented the “passivity of [the] generals” in the face of President Sukarno’s efforts to remain in office. Canada, like its allies, hoped that the army would be more ruthless and seize power sooner rather than later.

31.Jakarta 33ff.PDF

Days later, Indonesian generals forced Sukarno to sign the “11 March 1966 order” in which he handed real power to General Suharto. A representative was dispatched to stress to the British ambassador that the transfer of power was “gentlemanly” rather than brutal, and that “it would greatly help the Generals if this view could be taken abroad, rather than a renewed impression of lawless violence.” Britain’s man in Jakarta duly made that recommendation.

33.Gilchrist 455.PDF

In sum, the Canadian documents add to the weight of evidence that 1965 was an international story, as well as an Indonesian tragedy. Western governments were not surprised by events. They did not look on passively – instead, they encouraged the army to finish off its PKI rivals. They carefully used levers such as diplomatic pressure and foreign aid to support the result they desired: a military regime in Indonesia. And if that meant thousands killed, this was not bad news to the West, but simply the cost of bringing about the intended end of a pro-Western, army-governed Indonesia.

Eyeing the Indies: Canada-Indonesia relations, 1945-99

“Can you boil down your book to 7,500 words?” A question every author likes to hear.

When asked to do so for a textbook on Modern Canada, though, I tried. It summarizes the main points of my book Fire and the Full Moon: Canada and Indonesia in a Decolonizing World. And I had the chance to add back in some material that was cut from Fire and the Full Moon.

Here’s the opener; click through at the end to read the whole article (15 pp).

WHEN IN 1958 Theodore Newton became Canada’s second ambassador to Indonesia, his reaction summed up his new station’s peripheral place in Canadians foreign relations:

“Indonesia? The other side of the world! Visions of watery islands, brown hordes struggling to assert themselves, equatorial jungles, smoking volcanoes, gorillas and other bizarre forms of life flashed through my mind…. The die was cast, but my ignorance of my future parish was colossal and what little knowledge I possessed of it was bookish and remote.”

Indonesia mattered: it was the fifth most populous country in the world, the largest Muslim-majority country, and a trailblazer of non-alignment. Yet as Newton noted, even the capital city of Jakarta was a ‘confusing South Seas metropolis,’ pioneer territory for Canadian diplomats.

Canadian involvement with Indonesia began when Canada’s Security Council mission played a significant role in the UN-brokered peace settlement that saw the Netherlands accept the independence of its Indonesian colonies in 1949. The two countries exchanged embassies in 1953 and Canadian development aid commenced in the 1950s. Cordial if low-key relations continued until 1963, when the remaining British colonies in the region joined the Federation of Malaya to form a new independent Malaysia. This angered President Sukarno, who embarked on a ‘confrontation’ with the new Commonwealth member state.  The Canadian government lent strong support, even including some military aid, to Malaysia, and suspended aid to Indonesia. It welcomed the military coup that toppled Sukarno in 1965-66 and began to seek closer trade and aid ties with the authoritarian ‘New Order’ regime headed by General Suharto. Ottawa made Indonesia a ‘country of concentration’ for development aid in 1970; Indonesia rose as high as second among bilateral aid recipients in the years that followed. Canadian governments increasingly cultivated closer economic relations. Human rights, by contrast, were not a major factor. Only after the fall of Suharto in 1998 did any Canadian government press very hard on rights issues, giving support to the 1999 decolonization of East Timor. Human rights were again been subordinated to economic interests in Canadian policy towards the democratizing governments of Indonesia in the first decade of the twenty-first century.

For most of this period, Indonesia was important globally, but peripheral to Canadian policymakers’ perceptions of their country’s national interest. Their mental maps, their ways of picturing the world, placed the North Atlantic at the centre of the zone of ‘civilization,’ as Prime Minister Louis St. Laurent called it, with most of the world as periphery. This was the natural result of their upbringing in a Canada that was very much part of the British Empire. Lester Pearson considered that Canada could be most effective as ‘honest broker’ in areas on the periphery of cold war clashes. Examining a relationship peripheral to the imagined interests of Canadian governments permits a clearer look at the themes of Canadian foreign policy. The idea that Canada played the role of an idealistic ‘middle power’ has been debunked thoroughly by historians who have identified the importance of alliance politics. If there was indeed a strain of idealistic mediation running through Canadian foreign policy, it might be expected to be more visible in areas at the edge of the cold war, as Pearson suggested. In Indonesia – a land almost impossibly distant to many in Ottawa – it was not. Part of the reason was that Asia and the rest of the less developed world were seen as peripheral. Racialized perceptions underpinned and reinforced mental maps.

Many Canadians have spelled out their own diplomatic self-image of Canada as benevolent peacemaker and humanitarian internationalist power with respect to relations with the global South. In a 1960 Dominion Day speech delivered on Radio Indonesia, Newton offered as clear a statement of the Canadian sense of mission as any: ‘Canada is then more and more taking a world role in the interests of peace, in the development and the protection of the under-privileged, and in the fight against hunger, poverty and injustice… We aim to be considered honest brokers in world affairs. We wish to help the less developed and the less fortunate nations of the world toward a fuller life.’  A case study of Canadian policy towards Indonesia, however, shows that policymakers made decisions about Indonesia in ways that would serve the interests of Canada’s alliances and multilateral associations – the Commonwealth and the North Atlantic Treaty Organization above all. Over time, it increasingly meant serving the interests of Canadian capital by promoting trade and investment.

Eyeing the Indies full text.