Academics are increasingly using social media, such as blogs and twitter, to communicate their work and ideas and to engage a wider public.  In a forum in the most recent issue of Dialogues in Human Geography 3(1) we discuss in detail the opportunities, challenges and risks of academics utilising social media, reflecting on our experiences of blogging on IrelandAfterNAMA.  In response are six commentaries that engage with, extend and critique our ideas.  The forum as a whole provides an interesting discussion about the politics, circulation and audiences of academic knowledge production and how social media is reconfiguring the way in which academics share their work and take part in public debate.  The issue is open access and we’re happy to continue the reflection and debate here.

Public geographies through social media, p. 56-72
by Rob Kitchin, Denis Linehan, Cian O’Callaghan and Philip Lawton

Whose geography? Which publics? p. 73-76
by Jeremy W Crampton, Jay Bowen, Daniel Cockayne, Brittany Cook, Eric Nost, Lindsay Shade, Laura Sharp and Malene Jacobsen

Social media and the academy: New publics or public geographies? p. 77-80
by Mark Graham

Blogs as ‘minimal’ politics, p. 81-84
by Andrew Davies

Academics’ diverse online public communications, p. 85-86
by Jenny Pickerill

Social media experiments: Scholarly practice and collegiality, p. 87-91
Chris Gibson and Leah Gibbs

Public geography and the politics of circulation, p. 92-95
by David Beer

The creation and circulation of public geographies, p. 96-102
Rob Kitchin, Denis Linehan, Cian O’Callaghan, and Philip Lawton

 

 

The definitive Census 2011 population figures have been published today. Election boundary changes (for general and European elections) will be made on the basis of these, but this time are taking place in the context of a decision by government to advise a reduction in Dail seat numbers by between 6 (160 seats) and 13 (153 seats). So what do these population figures mean in terms of which constituencies may, or may not, be likely to have their election boundaries changed following on the upcoming Consituency Commission report, especially given that this body effectively will have eight different options in terms of total Dáil seat numbers to choose from? (more…)

While running for the train this morning I grabbed a copy of Metro Herald from the vendor outside the station.  Unsurprisingly, a picture of Queen Elizabeth adorned the front page, smiling benignly and holding flowers as she met with Trinity students yesterday.  The accompanying article described the visit as an “extraordinary occasion”, while also giving more marginal coverage to a range of protests that marked the day.  Inside, another article titled “Forget history, we’re here for the fashion” suggested that for many people the dresses worn by Mary McAlese and the Queen would form greater interest than any political or historical concerns.  On the letters page, the subject of the Queen’s visit was again raised by a disgruntled reader proclaiming their “boredom” with the “negative comments” surrounding the visit.  He suggested that “Now is the time to show that we’ve moved on and don’t hold petty grudges”.

While personally I do not find the protests by Sinn Féin and other republican groups especially constructive, and I certainly do not sympathise with the calls for violence espoused by some dissident groups, taking issue with the long history and the sustained impacts of British rule in Ireland hardly amounts to a “petty grudge”.  I bring up this letter not because it is particularly insightful, but rather because it offers an example of what appears to be a relatively commonplace response to the British monarch’s visit; that is, the perspective that Ireland’s colonial past no longer matters, that we have overcome this heritage and that, in the context of contemporary globalisation and cosmopolitanism, suggesting otherwise amounts to an exercise in a futile and dangerous anachronism.  This attitude is arguably an outcome of the transformations experienced during the Celtic Tiger period.  The rapid changes to Ireland from the early 1990s seem to have brought with them a cultural amnesia, wherein Irish people forgot the nation’s troubled history and position within the political geography of Europe, in favour of an assumed identity as cosmopolitan citizens of a post-political age.

However, the inescapable fact remains that Ireland is a postcolonial nation.  And as the post-colonial studies literature shows us, the affects of colonial rule do not suddenly cease upon the moment of emancipation.

Because of its geographical position, on the periphery of Europe but nevertheless within the area political designated as European, Ireland has occupied a particular (in many ways privileged) postcolonial position.  Its geographical proximity to Europe and its cultural proximity to the US, its racial composition, and especially its access to the EU, have afforded Ireland opportunities for economic and structural advancement not offered to other former colonies.  In many ways, it could be argued that Ireland’s position as a postcolonial nation within Europe mitigated some of the more trenchant outcomes of imperialism.  It has not been the target of economically and politically neo-colonialist interventions (at least up until the recent IMF bailout).  Postcolonial nations have frequently struggled to build any sort of functional state apparatus or economy.  In regard to nations in Africa, for example, Simone (2004, p. 158) suggests that “Even though urban wages increased substantially in the postwar period – at an average of 116 percent increase between 1949 and 1955 – top wage levels for Africans in 1962 fell well below the bottom wage for Europeans.  There was just not enough money to support a massive project of resocialization”.  Only a small proportion of the populations in modern African nations are employed in the formal economy, while the informal sector has become increasingly important to the survival of many inhabitants.  Similarly, the public sector has never recovered from the decimation left in the wake of the colonial powers leaving.  While Ireland certainly experienced poverty in the postwar period, it didn’t experience economic and social problems anywhere near the scale of those experienced in Africa or Latin America.  Moreover, the Celtic Tiger ‘economic miracle’ saw dramatic increases in GDP, wage levels, and standards of living.  This was seen as evidence of Ireland’s escape from its postcolonial status, to be replaced by an identity as a global economic leader.  Furthermore, the case of Ireland was used as a vehicle to hide the unequal nature of economic development, by suggesting that the Celtic Tiger offered an example of the benefits of a country opening itself up to the global market, and thus perpetuating a view that these markets offered an equal playing field.

One of the outcomes of the prevalence of free-market ideology over the last number of decades has been a disavowal of the role that history and geography play in contemporary economic, social and political contexts.  Some of the popular reactions to the Queen’s visit to Ireland exemplify this perspective.  While to an extent the deep ambivalence that the visit represents is being acknowledged and it is being seen as of ‘historic importance’, there is a latent underlying narrative constructing this as a straightforward diplomatic mission.  This is achieved in large part by consigning British imperialism in Ireland to the category of ‘history’, something to be read about and studied but which bears little relation to realities as they currently stand.  Part of her itinerary thus involves a series of ceremonial functions that symbolically gesture towards a reappraisal of British involvement in Ireland, but do so only opaquely and without formal apology for political violence and injustice that were the outcome of this involvement.  Therefore, this history is both remembered and forgotten, remembered only briefly to be forgotten, forgotten for us to remember that as a nation we are now somewhere else, somewhere where this uncomfortable history can be comfortably remembered and forgotten.

But this imagination of the nation elides not only a whole section of Ireland’s past, but crucial ways of understanding its present.  As protests organised yesterday by the Socialist Party pointed out, British imperialism did not end at the close of the colonialism era, but is ongoing in countries such as Afghanistan and Iraq in the form of direct involvement in conflict, and in complex neo-colonial relationships with their former colonies.  As Edward Said (1994, p.8) suggests, “…direct colonialism has largely ended; imperialism… lingers where it has always been, in a kind of general cultural sphere as well as in specific political, ideological, economic, and social practices”.  The project of colonialism and the residual effects of imperialism have formed a colossal global project that continues to shape the world we live in.  Ireland is no exception in this regard.  Apart from the very obvious problems stemming from the political situation in the north, the Republic of Ireland on account of its colonial status started its independent march towards modernity with an economic and administrational deficit.  The apparatus of governance and public administration that had been built up in other European nations were largely missing from the Free State inherited by the Irish people, and the nation has had to contend with a series of rapid transformations from this stunted base.  This has had, and continues to have, significant implications for the Irish state’s ability to function.  Mac Laughlin (1997, p. 3) argues that the country’s social problems stem from “…the fact that Ireland has become a postmodern society before becoming a modern nation”.

Far from effacing and erasing these challenges, the Celtic Tiger period exemplified their continued applicability.  Faced with its postcolonial deficit – the weakness of its political system, the paucity of state-owned and indigenous industry, the high levels of out-migration – the state turned to the unsustainable policy of trying to attract foreign direct investment as a way of growing the economy.  While, owing to a range of factors, this strategy was successful for a time, it still bespoke the limited mechanisms of the postcolonial state.  These limited mechanisms were also mirrored in the levels of political cronyism and corruption that mired the property boom that was to follow.  Of course, Ireland’s current economic crisis cannot be blamed entirely on its status as postcolonial.  Much of the current problems faced by the country are very clearly the outcome of incompetence, greed, and under-regulation by Irish banks, politicians, and developers.  However, rather than being tangential to these processes, the legacy of colonialism plays a key role in Celtic Tiger Ireland and its catastrophic aftermath.  Nowhere is this more apparent than in the IMF/ECB bailout.  Here Ireland draws closer to its spiritual neighbours on the postcolony than perhaps ever before.   If Morgan Kelly’s apocalyptic warnings are anything to go by, Ireland could already be locked into a system of perpetual debt.  In this regard, its status as a postcolonial nation may have increasing significance.  So as the Queen visits these shores, rather than drawing divisions between those who have ‘moved on’ and those ‘living in the past’, perhaps we should be asking what this past really means for our present.

Cian O’ Callaghan

This is the first in a series of guest blogs from geographers around Europe. Edward Huijbens is a geographer based at the University of Akureyri in Iceland.

On the Friday before the big weekend in October 2008, when the whole finance sector in Iceland came tumbling down, there was tension in the air. During lunch time news a revered economist at the University of Iceland had stated that the banks were bankrupt with unforeseeable consequences for the nation at large. The was obvious panic in his voice and I rushed back to the office, where we gathered round the computer and listened to a replay on the internet of the news. We had not much to say – we were just numb and awestruck. On the Monday after the weekend big news were afoot and the PM was to address the nation on TV at 4pm. The nation came to a stand-still and we watched as the PM announced that the finance sector had capsized and might suck the whole nation in. He ended with the famous Bushian “God bless Iceland”.

Immediately it was clear that this collapse manifested regional disparities within the country. Around the small villages and towns around the cost people shrugged and said; we have had recession here for 30 years, this will not change much. Whilst in the capital region Reykjavík and bigger towns namely Akureyri and Reykjanesbær, the effect was felt more, but also the need to invest all the bubble capital accumulating was mainly manifest there, in highrises, roadworks, big building projects and new boroughs. Now these are all half-done and on hold.

Mostly people were at first numb, did not know what had happened and how. In August 2008 the nation was on the top of the world, with a booming economy and just having won a silver medal in the Olympics in handball. When the handball team returned home tens of thousands filled the streets in Reykjavík as they received a royal welcome – national pride was rampant and all of a sudden it was all gone. Overnight we became equated with Zimbabwe and the likes in international media.

Then it began to dawn on some that the system we had built was fundamentally corrupt, through nepotism, and the ideological dogma of neo-liberalism was flawed. This was of course obvious to many beforehand, but the debate could never be sustained in the face of the amazing wealth that seemed to be pouring into the country. The only political party (the left green) that raised concern was absolutely ridiculed. As one left green parliamentarian suggested that the banks should just leave the country and set up HQ in London, the media uproar was immense.

As it dawned on the general public, various groups started to emerge and talk on various issues: general mis-trust at the political establishment was rampant so new ones formed. The most prominent one started the first Saturday after the collapse in October to rally people at 3 pm on the centre square in Reykjavík in front of the parliament house. There for 30 minutes 3-4 people would give short speeches on their take on the situation and the organiser, the well known civil liberties activist Hörður Torfason, would talk to people reminding them to come next Saturday. His aim was simple, to come every Saturday until three of his demands would be met: 1) That the director of the Central Bank would be ousted, 2) the government resigns and 3) that a general elections will be called.

The firm use of public space to voice simple clear demands became the platform for the change that would in the end occur. People held on to these meetings, and the media made more and more of them as people started coming in their thousands. What at first was a handful of people had by January 2009 become at least 10,000 people (bear in mind in Iceland the population is 320,000 in total). This mass of people simply could not be ignored and when the parliament reconvened after Christmas mid-January, Hörður urged all to come to the square and bring anything that could make noise – this time they will listen. People grabbed pots and pans mostly and filled the central square banging them along with percussionists and blaring horns. Inside the parliament people needed to shout to be heard, but still the parliament members and PM pretended as if nothing was going on. This so infuriated people that they came back the next day and the day thereafter and what unfolded was what later was called the “Kitchenware” Revolution and the government resigned. An interim government took over and general elections were called. There was change and a left government gained clear majority – but now, almost a year on, we are in the interesting situation that this new government seems to be doing all it can to resurrect the former system that collapsed in all its nepotistic and corrupt glory. We are a bit confused up here now and what next we do not know, except it seems clear that it is the tax-payer who will pay.

The lesson in this for me is that clear demands have to be set, with a clear structure and platform for the voicing of these demands: where come hell or high water, the demands will be voiced, and if not heard accompanied by pots and pans. For me the pivotal role that public space plays in the strategic locations, such as ours in Reykjavík, cannot be underestimated.

A hammer and a thick steel frying pan  can sever eardrums!

Eddie from Iceland

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 391 other followers