Non-Fiction: Colonialism is Dead, Long Live Colonialism

This thought-piece is one of the posts I post to medium about twice a month. Consider subscribing to my medium feed to get more posts like this.

I am a colonial artifact, my very existence a result of the conjoining of British greed and Indian aspiration.

Anyone reading this in the US or Canada also qualifies as a colonial product, certainly. But colonialism, like a franchise brand, manifest differently across the globe. American and Canadian peoples can be seen as colonial products*. In sports scores, the asterisks denote egregious circumstances, like corked bats or coked batters. In colonialism, some nations enjoyed the egregious benefits of self-rule as well as the sheer acceptance of the people’s humanity. While the US and Canada, twin-nations separated at birth and showing differing levels of decrepitude, were once colonies of the British crown, their national state is untainted by colonialism. (One might even see these nations as the few, the proud to profit from their colonial past).

Colonialism for the vast majority of the world is not an asterisk to their history, but the pivotal moment when existence was transformed, and not for the better. Colonialism meant increased trains, roads, and schools, but those were not selfless gifts but instead investments in the colonial machine. Schools trained workers in Colonial enterprises. Roads and trains helped colonial powers survey “their” land and efficiently remove goods for sale. Colonialism was a business proposition built on the backs of humans.

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