Académique Documents
Professionnel Documents
Culture Documents
Nicole Moore
To cite this article: Nicole Moore (2000) That critical juncture: Maternalism in anticolonial
feminist history, Journal of Australian Studies, 24:66, 95-102, DOI: 10.1080/14443050009387615
Article views: 68
Download by: [Fac Latinoamericana de Cien Sociales] Date: 20 March 2017, At: 10:11
'That Critical Juncture': Maternalism in
Anti-Colonial Feminist History
Nicole Moore
Recent feminist theorising and cultural analysis has been said to involve a return to
history, as Rita Felski argued in her attention to the gender of modernity. What kinds
of history might this be? What temporal structures are inhabitable in this 'return'?
Felski's question posits that challenges to 'epochal unity' and 'unilinear narrative' are
the largest ones with which feminist history should have to deal:1 but there are multiple
feminist historiographies which have reformulated the historical project via precisely
these challenges, and indeed may be seen to enact them. In Australian contexts,
where history has been a dominant mode in women's studies and where, as Meaghan
Morris has argued, 'history is the name of the space where we define what matters',
Felski's question is perhaps about a moment incited'by history rather than nostalgic
for it.2 This is not only a question about what difference feminism makes but about
how it has used that difference in re-visioning a national past. If history as an activity
no longer presumes a model of surveillance, the 'monarch-of-all-I-survey' model
identified in colonial writing by Mary Louise Pratt,3 what kind of gendered feminist
lens can be set up through which to view the injustices of the past? What is entailed
in that looking backward, or in that wish to look?
In the introduction to her book on 'being thought of as a white woman', Vron
Ware declared that this inquiry had 'forced [her] to become a historian'.4 She
examines how the different meanings of 'white woman' as a category were
produced and thus searches for its 'significant moments' as an historical task.
This reluctantly historical book begins by discussing an image of a mother and
child, from a British Conservative party election advertisement that is not designated
British and in which the mother's whiteness is not racially signified. Vare recognises
this white mother as an exclusive vision of the nuclear family, unifying white
tradition, race and nation and establishing them as subject to dominant white
masculinity.5 Feminist history and anti-racist history come together in her analysis
and their separate, significant challenges to unilinear history might also be supposed
to come together in the continually broadening body of work in feminist anti- or
(post)colonial history in Australia. The figure of the mother in this body of work is
a complex one, however. Unlike the British Conservative party, feminist inquiry
privileges maternity as a location of gendered oppression and sexual difference.
As a narrative figure in historical writing, maternity can bridge separated historical
experience of different women. It brings the experiences of indigenous or colonised
women and European or colonising women into relation. Jane Gallop's tracing of
maternalist metaphors in feminist literary criticism at the end of the 1980s pointed
to the way 'making history like mother' instituted parameters of identity for the
category of woman that not all women have access to nor desire, however.6 A
similar approach can perhaps be taken to Australian forms of feminist history that
employ the maternal as a central model of historical identity. Identifying the
operation of generative tropes of maternity (and/or its failure and/or rejection) in
Vision Splendid
Published in 1994 and lauded by a wide range of feminist and other readers,
Creating A Nation was characterised by one of its authors, Marilyn Lake, as a
'mother's book'." It begins its first chapter, titled 'Birthplaces', by recounting
the labour and birthing of a woman of the Wangal clan and Eora people, called
Warreweer, as the authors record it.12 Their account states that 'Warreweer had
befriended some of the British women and she agreed to their presence at the
birth. Their observations, mediated through Lieutenant David Collins' journal, led
to the first written record of an Aboriginal woman giving birth'.13 The birthing
practices of the Eora women are recounted in explanatory language, contrasted
with and detailed against the actions of the not merely observing, but intervening
British women, and the account is then explicitly offered as a revealing precursor
of future relations between the two sets of women. Placed and framed as they
are, the birthing moments of Warraweer thus function as directedly political textual
stratagems, imbued with meaning distinct as a moment of exchange between
96
Nicole Moore
British and Aboriginal culture. The writers offer the conduct and experiences of
the Eora women, as they have been recounted and mediated by white women
observers, as a kind of alternative construction of a white Australian originary
moment, mediated and read through Aboriginal mores. The account has been
moved from the margins of imperial history, from Collins' appendices, to become
the opening moments of a 'general' Australian history. Its placement, and indeed
the text which it synchronically begins, assertively literalises the birthing metaphor
with which white Australian history has organised a retrospective 'creation' of
nationhood, and the account is privileged as its simultaneous, reconciliatory, origin
and critique.
The appendices to Collins'journal are mere margins to his otherwise proudly
masculine, imperial quest narrative, about the journey of the fleet and the administration
of the colony. In these appendices, he collects what he calls 'particulars' and 'remarks
on the disposition, customs, manners etc of the Native Inhabitants'. Collins retells the
British observation of Warreweer thus:
97
Vision Splendid
between black and white women, at once shadowing maternity's myth as a humanist
location of universality and backgrounding the precise power relations at work in
contest between colonised women and colonising women. This historiographical
separation yet epistemological collocation is a complex strategy, determinedly anti-
racist in its use of temporal contiguity to demonstrate the coevalness, via Johannes
Fabian, of 'othered' women with their western observers.18
As a strategy, nevertheless, it perhaps downplays the distinct and even crucial role
of maternity as a mechanism of colonial relations that shores up, literalises or inscribes
racial hierarchies. Jane Haggis has recently and compellingly demonstrated the work
of the concept of maternal 'native agency', as a mode by which compliant citizenship
was enforced in the constructs of protestant missionaries on the Indian subcontinent.19
Elizabeth Povinelli has also described the way in which indigenous 'Australian' sexuality
and familial practices, as they were 'observed' and constructed by imperial chroniclers
such as Collinsas irregular, irrational and requiring interventioncame to signify
the legitimacy ofterra nullius. The process of instituting what she terms 'the content
of Aboriginal emptiness' within imperial narratives, the ability to find some form of
' social vacuity',20 was reliant on evacuating reason and convention from the make-up
of Aboriginal sexual and emotional interaction. She argues:
Drawing on eighteenth century notions of savage sexuality and passion and of social
progressivity and sovereignty, the emerging Australian [sic] government could present
itself not as appropriating an ordered land but as ordering an as-yet-unordered,
unappropriated land, a social terra nulliiis?1
The observing moment recorded by Collins is a prominent and carefully coded part
of this process. Not the signified corporeality of birthing as an othered identity
practice but the rehearsed act of observation and observing; its repetition, its modes
replay the imperial process. Its role, thus, is a determining part of its produced
meaning, which Creating a Nation must both echo and attempt to delegitimate.
There is a third narrative of this same event: which becomes, as my view moves
'around it' now, unequally refracted across the colonial 'divide'. Stuart Mclntyre
has suggested that it was the decades of the twentieth century preceding 1939 that
witnessed the birth of the writing of white Australian history. It is thus no coincidence
that is in the premier historical novels of the 1940s, Dark's canonical Timeless Land
trilogy, that a writing of the maternity of Waraweer (and of Barangaroo, Bennelong's
wife, as she is designated) is inscribed as history, and as a narrative of consciousness,
by a middle class white woman. The international acclaim with which The Timeless
Land was met in 1941 privileged subjectivity as the narrative's originality; identifying
humanist, Aboriginal inferiority as its anticolonial newness, its primitivist modemism.-
This is, notably, subjectivity across difference, but also as embodied, gendered memory.
Along with Dark's explicit indebtedness to 'dying race' and so-called 'practical'
anthropology, including A P Elkin and Daisy Bates in her list of acknowledgements,
we can discern a polemic of maternalist feminism at work in the trilogy. This is
most notable in her representation of Aboriginal women as an explicit ideation, as
Benedict Anderson would recognise it, of 'prehistory' as race and nation.
Brenton Doecke's recent laudatory re-evaluation of The Timeless Land uses a
formalist analysis to argue that it is a heterogeneous text with much political force as
a radical critique of Australian society at a crucial point in its nation-making process.
98
Nicole Moore
He argues that much of this force is locatable in the 'clash of perspectives and ironic
juxtapositions' and that the workings of 'critical perspective' inform Dark's
representation of Aboriginal subjectivity such that its 'idealisation' is crucially multiple
and politically directed.23 Penny Van Toom, in a similar focus on multiple points of
view, argues that as a character, Bennelong's Aboriginal viewpoint 'serves as a device
for estranging the posited Anglo-Australian reader from British ceremonial and ritual
practices'.24 Van Toorn notes that in Dark's representation 'Aboriginal society is
healthily 'natural' and 'classless' in comparison to British society and she argues for
appropriative Aboriginalist nationalism at work in Dark's novelistic as well as historical
task.23 Unlike Doeke's analysis, Van Toorn's is prepared to notice the way in which
the construction of race is necessarily inflected within certain gendered modes, as
well as classed ones, in The Timeless Land. One effect of Dark's romantic anti-
racist humanism, including women without noting social difference, is a glossing over
of forms of gendered social organisation in many Aboriginal communities. Neither
Van Toorn nor Doeke consider Dark's representation of Aboriginal women in detail,
however. Their formalist analyses are also not concerned to identify the anthropological
sources of her Aboriginalisni,26 nor what can be pointed to as the maternalist feminism
at work in these representations.
Waraweer's birthing moment doesn't actually happen in The Timeless Land. It
is textually pre-empted and its appendixed details dislocated into someone else's
illness narrative, the story of Barangaroo's 'inevitable' and mythic death which
signifies racial defeat. Barangaroo's pregnancy and maternity (also recounted in
the opening chapters of Creating a Nation), instead, are explicitly foregrounded as
a sex and race specific epistemology, an atavistic, corporeal knowledge of doom:
She said nothing, knowing that the terrors of a woman are to be nursed in her own
heart. For it is the function of man to be fearless, and what man could face a woman's
knowledge and remain undaunted? So she kept quite still, her face impassive and her
dark eyes melancholy, feeling the life of her race stir within her body, and knowing its
movements for the throes not of birth, but of death.27
99
Vision Splendid
100
Nicole Moore
The narrative collocation of maternity and history, as I've sketched it here, is more
than a parallelling; the collocation can be seen to be a literalisation, each of the other.
More than mnemonics, as metaphors they become each others' teleology. The risk
seems to be, as always, perhaps, a multilayered 'naturalisation of colonialism as history',
as Gyan Prakash warns,44 in which colonialism itself, as nation-making, becomes all
of history, and this time through the potent naturalism of progenerative metaphors, of
the mythically natural maternal reified as a gendered nation. This risk is not only the
misrecognition of enlightenment models for history as the truth about the past. Critiques
provided by black and indigenous Australian commentators like Mudrooroo and
indigenous and colonised historians elsewhere parallel Dipesh Chakraberty's call for
the revision of the discipline of history from non-western epistemologies.45 Feminist
history, in its desire to shift and rethink patriarchal teleologiesmasculinist narratives
has long been in the position to think about this challenge, remembering that what
is identified as race is sometimes about different knowledge systems and histories.
Perhaps the collocation is another instance of the way in which white women
speak with forked tongues. Making history Mike mother' does two things, which
are themselves contradictory: inscribes maternity as both at once outside history
and as history itself: and secondly, writes this maternity as and not as violence;
its location and its opposite, that pronatalist ethic of care. Spivak has recently re-
asked a question about matrilineal lines of slave ownership in the Americas, asking
how these can become 'History' (capital H) in any way that is not an elision of
violence. Via the scorching critiques offered of white nationhood from the
participant histories of the stolen generations, white historians can no longer treat
indigenous Australian family and community histories as 'additional', nor sideline
the model of resistive, survivor maternity within which Rita Huggins spoke when
she noted that all her children were born free, meaning not on the missions, not in
service. Geneaology as history is not available in similar ways to black and white
communities, nor has black maternity been lived or experienced in ways easily
reconcilable to white feminist anti-oedipal constructions of it as anti-patriarchal.
Brigitta Olubas and Lisa Greenwell discuss the work of white maternalism in
Carmel Bird's collection of survivor accounts from 'The Stolen Generations',
explicitly identifying 'the failures of maternity as a narrative device linking
Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal stories and lives' .46
101
Vision Splendid
It is a challenge for this 'new feminist history', as Lake characterises it, then, to
remain aware of differing maternities, as Margaret Jolly has thought of them, differing
because of their relation to teleologies of power (imperialist capitalism), which produce
differing epistemologies.47 Anti-racist feminist history needs to continue to rethink
these epistemologies as structuring knowledges rather than alternative ones, since
they are as much about white history as black, and not alternative but definitive. A
disparity remains between the postcolonial turn towards integrated dualist models that
investigate shared meanings, and an indigenous Australian insistence that binary colonial
models are still powerful and that the vantage point of interpretative history making is
still not given over, nor shared. The degree to which maternity can be both the object
of knowledge and a way of knowing in these contexts is a difficult question.
102