Matěj Pavlík, Jiří Žák, The Practice of Decolonization

Introduction to the Practice of Decolonization

The chapter called “The Practice of Decolonization” of the project Regeneration aims to examine the dynamic process of decolonization, including its historical conditions, ideological roots, and its manifestation in Norway. In this introduction, we will outline the topics discussed in this chapter. However, before doing so, we would like to talk about our motivation and the circumstances under which our project emerged. Delving into decolonization in Norway as Czech art researchers may initially seem random or arbitrary. Nonetheless, despite the obvious differences between Norway and Czechia, we have identified commonalities that we believe make this exploration productive. The urgency attributed to decolonization differs from country to country, depending on the extent of the country’s historical ties to the dark legacy of European colonization. In recent years, articles and podcasts have discussed how the Czech lands historically, materially, and culturally benefited from the spoils acquired by neighboring colonial powers. Yet, complicity in European colonialism is disputed in every relevant discussion (“ But we didn’t have any colonies! ”). This raises the question whether we lack general knowledge and awareness regarding this extensive history, thereby ignoring decolonization, or if we already know enough but choose to turn a blind eye. Nonetheless, this process is crucial, stimulating social, political, and artistic imagination worldwide. It is like a boomerang from the past, demanding our attention as a reverse mechanism of colonialism itself.

During our exploration conducted from 2022 to 2024, we focused on discussions surrounding decolonization in art, education, and society at large. We were looking for stories of women artists, Sámi activists, and Norwegian citizens who migrated to the country from outside Europe. Our goal was to hear from those who directly or indirectly addressed decolonization as a means of emancipation and social justice, because of its integral role in their lives. In the very beginning, we had somewhat inaccurate and perhaps naive perceptions of the decolonization discourse in Norway, assuming it was several steps ahead of Czechia. While partially true, taking those steps on our journey up north from the heart of Europe revealed that Norway, often lauded as the progressive epitome in politics, environmental policy, social justice, or anti-racism, did not always meet these expectations. The voices we encountered, and expected to provide examples of good practice and inspiration, surprisingly often expressed frustration, concern, and rarely even fear.

“ It’s typically Norwegian to be good ,” said former Prime Minister, Social Democrat Gro Harlem Brundtland, in her 1992 New Year’s speech. This statement, and the very image of Norwegians as inherently good, still resonates today. Norway is renowned for its rich history of social democracy and its generosity in social policy matters. The influence of this narrative is so profound that it motivates many people to relocate to Norway in pursuit of a better life. We discussed this motivation with Kurdish-Iraqi performer Sara Baban, who has resided in Norway for decades. Norway’s reputation as a multinational, open society has been cultivated over time into a powerful brand. But with Sara Baban’s help, too, we can see this image in a different light. The Practice of Decolonization aims to point out these contradictions. The statement “ It’s typically Norwegian to be good ” can serve as a smokescreen, obscuring Norway’s issues such as islamophobia or the increasing influence of the far right in public discourse.

At the outset of the project, we came across anthropologist Sindre Bangstad’s text Decolonizing the academy , which is included in this chapter. It was originally published on the website Africa Is a Country.com. The article serves as a great survey of various reactions and voices opposed to decolonization as a whole. At the same time, it maps the battleground of culture wars in relation to this issue. Despite being written in 2018, many Sindre Bangstad’s insights remain relevant today, if not more urgent. Culture wars are fueled by a variety of lobbying groups and political think tanks. One notable conservative right-wing think tank in Norway is the Human Rights Service , which systematically influences public debate, the media, and specific politicians. In Czechia, we might be familiar with the so-called Hnutí pro život (Pro-Life Movement), which is waging a cultural battle around reproduction rights, again from a conservative right-wing stance. Part of the mosaic of culture wars in Norway is the incredible story of the theater play Ways of Seeing . This performative artwork triggered a sequence of events and reactions resulting in upheaval in the top ranks of Norwegian politics. Ways of Seeing helped reveal intolerance and racism in Norwegian media space and society at large. Sara Baban, mentioned earlier, is in fact one of the play’s authors. In one of the episodes of the audio-documentary series included in this chapter, Sara tells the complex story of Ways of Seeing , starting with a politically charged performance and ending with the Minister of Justice stepping down and his partner facing trial. We will also learn how Norwegian society was impacted by the horrific terrorist attack carried out by the far-right extremist Anders Breivik. When structuring the audio-documentary series The Practice of Decolonization , a key figure for us was artist Nikhil Vettukattil based in Oslo. His committed insight into the situation in Norwegian society helped us understand many connections and political antagonisms that fuel conflicts in the country’s culture wars.

“Culture wars” put us into binary positions and impose a wartime rhetoric upon us, which only further deepens the ideological trenches among various groups of inhabitants. During our research, we encountered a Norwegian academic – who shall remain unnamed – who talked with us about their approach to decolonization in university lectures. They believe that Norwegian academia has, to some extent, become toxic for discussing decolonization. They even received indirect advice to leave and teach decolonial discourses in another country, as if in an academic exile. Drawing from this experience, they do not find it politically productive anymore to openly call for a decolonization of academia. The term itself has become a trigger for some, prompting these people to adopt negative stances. It seems as though decolonization has become a substitute focal point for political struggle amid existing ideological differences and divisions.

Therefore, the Norwegian academic took concrete steps in their teaching practice. Instead of publicly labeling their activities as an effort to decolonize academia, they now present texts and ideas from postcolonial theory, allowing these to speak out, teaching “from the perspectives of others.” Are they perhaps a deserter from culture wars? Those on the front lines of ideological and political conflicts, facing pressure from culture warfare, can undoubtedly reach their limits. This was just one example, hardly enough to draw sweeping conclusions, but we did meet multiple people who, more or less, ceased to refer to their practice as decolonizing. They would rather talk about specific methods, such as those in pedagogy or their own artistic work, that aspire for certain social transformation. During our meeting with Sarah Lookofsky, the Dean of the Oslo National Academy of the Arts (KHiO) at the time (2020–2023), we strongly sensed a determined, or rather cautious, attitude towards decolonization. The dean declined to grant us an interview about the initiatives led by the Academy’s students focusing on antiracism or decolonization. She said that the student-led decolonization initiative at the Academy occurred before her tenure, so she preferred not to comment on it. However, it was evident from our discussion that she was also worried about potential negative media backlash if she were to grant us an interview as the Norwegian media space is strongly confrontational and influenced by far-right discourse. Given the context of the Academy’s recent past, her concerns are understandable. The student-led decolonization initiative took place in 2020 and was supported by the then rector Måns Wrange. But a few student opponents scandalized the initiative in right-wing media that turned it into a polarizing issue that aligned with the agendas of culture wars. The resulting pressure ultimately led to Måns Wrange’s resignation. This was another reminder that today, culture wars seem to be a very effective tool for overshadowing or diverting attention from pressing social and political debates.

To transcend the horizon of culture wars, we focused on the history and continuity of the Sámi people’s struggles for emancipation. Talking about the Sámi within the context of decolonization has several good reasons. The Sámi’s traumatic experience in relation to the building of the Norwegian state is multifaceted. Its past is filled with many conflicts over land and resources, oppression of cultural identity, and also violence perpetrated by Norwegians against the Sámi. In the interviews featured in our audio-documentary series (episodes 1–3), we examine various critical moments in Sámi history, putting together continuities that shed light on the history of struggles for emancipation and the strategies employed by the Sámi against the Norwegian state. Compared to human rights struggles, culture wars may appear less impactful. The task of “recovering” the displaced Sámi history seems to be a significant social issue in contemporary Norway. This is also apparent from the existence of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, a government-appointed investigative body. Formed in 2018, the commission aimed to examine the policy of Norwegianization (Norway’s assimilation policy towards indigenous peoples) and the injustices inflicted upon the Sámi and Kven (Norwegian Finns) peoples. The commission submitted its final report to the Norwegian Parliament on 1 June 2023. Where this investigation will ultimately lead remains to be seen. In our audio-documentary series, academic and activist Liisa-Rávná Finbog asks: “ Why are you forcing people to forgive? ” This question encapsulates the challenge of collecting historical facts concerning the oppression of the Sámi. Is the raised-up forgotten history of violence going to sink back to the bottom? In other words, is there a genuine effort for social change behind the uncovering of Norway’s problematic past, or is it more about preserving the image of Norwegians as the “typically good” people?

This text outlines the cautious and hostile attitude towards postcolonial theories and decolonization in Norway. However, this hostility can change into an appropriation of postcolonial theory for different, and perhaps unexpected, purposes. During our research visit to Norway in 2022, we observed a phenomenon that has been probably best described and reflected in Poland. There, postcolonial theory in the hands of conservative politicians has become its own negative reflection, a tool for shaping a new national identity. This inverse process of decolonization can ultimately lead to the “emancipation” of nationalism. “ We don’t want to be a colony of the West anymore. ” This phenomenon has been extensively studied in Poland by sociologist Jan Sowa and others under the project Perverse Decolonization. In the Czech Republic, a similar phenomenon can be traced in the thought of economist Ilona Švihlíková or political scientist Petr Drulák. Could postcolonial theory become a “blueprint” for the resurgence of nationalism? Especially in times when major ideological projects such as liberalism and globalization are collapsing? Reflecting on how the principles of postcolonial thought might be turned inside out and applied to other contexts can be deeply disconcerting. To provide a deeper insight into the understanding of decolonization in the Czech Republic, we conducted an interview with visual culture theoretician and sociologist Andrea Průchová Hrůzová, featured in our audio-documentary series. Andrea works at the Czech Institute of Contemporary History where she is currently (2024) finishing a three-year research project focusing on the public presentation and reception of decolonization in the Czech context. In the interview, Andrea underscores an important aspect of decolonization as (among other things) a process involving the rearticulation of historical narratives. In other words, “ history has always been used as a weapon or a platform, at least, for negotiating our present. ”

One of the outcomes of this chapter is our original art video called Hopeful Visitors and Grieving Guides: Notes from the Travel Notebook of a Dark Tourist , which, to some extent, comments on our own position as authors. The video employs the perspective of dark tourism , defined as visiting places connected to tragic events. With analog photographs of locations such as Utøya island (the site of a far-right extremist terrorist attack), the Fosen Vind wind farm complex (infrastructure destroying the ecosystem of winter pastures in Sámi territory), and a controversial sculpture park in the heart of Oslo, created by Gustav Vigeland, an alleged Nazi sympathizer, we ask ourselves a double-edged, ironizing question: Is the presence of dark tourists in these locations perhaps a sign that the tragedy is over?

“ It is not knowledge we lack. What is missing is the courage to understand what we know and to draw conclusions. ” This is a quote from the book Exterminate All the Brutes by Sven Lindquist. The quote presents us with a kind of dilemma regarding how to formulate decolonization initiatives in relation to education. Our project’s aim was not to suggest that the “right” education leads to a democratic society free from racism, inequality, etc. On the contrary, we want to move beyond this liberal approach to education as a tool for democratization. We seek to sense certain ambivalence in the idea of education “towards a better society.” Academic Stine H. Bang Svendsen explores the issue of Norwegianization in her text Tracing decolonial options in Sami educational philosophy . She challenges the liberal notion of education as a means of self-expression very well, capturing the assimilation policies still alive in Norway’s “progressive” education system. In our interview, Stine mentioned that “criticism is as old as the system.” This idea has become emblematic for us, as it transcends the horizon of “progress” so praised in Norway, urging us instead to pay closer attention to critical voices and the overlooked knowledge of indigenous inhabitants that point out potential flaws in the system of power. Stine H. Bang Svendsen’s text is complemented by Amanda Fayant’s essay, who is also a collaborator on our project. Amanda is a Cree/Métis/Saulteaux artist, researcher, and member of the Decolonial Arts Education Research and Practice group at the Norwegian University of Science and Technology (NTNU) in Trondheim. In her essay, she writes about the relationship between decolonization and pedagogy. She highlights the necessity of a pedagogy of care, which emphasizes mutual respect and dialog, and is based on sympathy, affirmation, and investment in transformative practices.

Let us return to Sven Lindquist’s proposition quoted above. If indeed we do not lack knowledge of Euro-American colonial history, it becomes imperative to seriously consider the critical argument that “those who belong to the West must face the consequences of the dark colonial past.” While the Czech Republic’s aspiration to belong to the West may of course change in the future due to ongoing geopolitical conflicts, today, a significant part of Czech liberal political representation declares affiliation to the Western world. For the words proclaimed by state power to transform from mere rhetoric to social reality, we, as a society, must actively respond to the conditions and inequalities of the postcolonial world. It’s a world that the “West” has helped create through its colonial and imperial past (as well as the neocolonial present).