- Dr Jocelyne Hughes wins Most Acclaimed Lecturer Award at recent Oxford SU: Student-Led Teaching Awards 16 May 2018
- SoGE graduate students attend writing retreat on the Isle of Wight 15 May 2018
- Rewilding's next generation will mean no more reserves full of starving animals 11 May 2018
- Sea Ice and Arctic Biota - Special edition published this week 11 May 2018
- Doctoral student Lisa Thalheimer selected to be Global Youth Climate Network Climate Ambassador 9 May 2018
Thank you to Emma Carter for her insights on Mount Snowdon:
For a significant period of time, I have been wanting to summit Mount Snowdon, the highest peak in Wales. After proposing this to my mother at the beginning of this summer, we decided to book a hostel room and attempt the walk, which is hardly challenging for experienced walkers and takes around 5 hours to ascend and descend. My family enthusiastically seeks naturally beautiful landscapes, which exist in abundance in rural Wales; I also sought the sense of achievement which reaching the top of a mountain brings, and ideally the stunning views which were sure to accompany this. However, thinking deeper into geographical understandings of how nature and landscapes are interpreted, I have come to realise that perhaps my experience of Snowdon cannot simply be boiled down to one of beauty.
My walking party chose the manageable Snowdon Ranger path, which coincides with the popular Llanberis path shortly prior to reaching the summit at 1,085m. Despite a reasonably quiet walk up, in which our encounters with other walkers were only occasional, on joining the Llanberis path this changed drastically. The summit of Snowdon was very busy, a fact that was only augmented by a horde of runners competing in an international hill running race that day. My search for undisturbed and beautiful nature had been interrupted by excessive human presence, which begs the question: is nature really natural?
In common conceptions of nature, a false dichotomy can be observed between nature and society, such that nature is pristine, God-given and unmarred, the raw material exploited by ‘society’ for the purposes of production (Smith, 2010 in Apostolopoulou, 2016). Nature is therefore defined by a dualism which is inapplicable to reality, as my visit to Snowdon suggests: seeking ‘nature’ as a wild, untouched entity is impossible. We expect that nature is grounded in a divided geography, islands of ‘natural’ space surrounded by less ‘natural’ urban or inhabited areas, but inevitably nature and society are inextricably intertwined. Nature has been defined by its distance from humans, and humans therefore seek wilderness – yet this presents a paradox, because any space in which humans are present fails to conform to what we would label ‘natural’. This was evident in the extreme up Snowdon, where the presence of other walkers rendered the scenery ‘unnatural’.
This is a notion much discussed among Marxist geographers, who have investigated and developed Marx’s ideas about the concept of nature writing from the middle of the 19th century. According to Smith (2010 in Apostolopoulou, 2016), Marx suggested that virtually no nature existed any longer which predated human history; simply put, we almost can’t find any piece of nature that hasn’t been influenced by humans. This could be labelled the ‘Anthropocene’, yet this in itself is a problematic term – ‘anthropos’ implies that humans are against the great forces of nature, reinforcing the Cartesian dualism characterising human relations with nature (Moore, 2014 in Apostolopoulou, 2016). Even the way we address discussions of nature with humans as a central role, for example within debate around contemporary environmental issues or designating Sites of Special Scientific Interest, suggests that nature cannot coexist with society and retain its ‘naturalness’.
Furthermore, our conceptions of nature and landscape tend to be limited to outside spaces – yet time spent playing board games in the hostel and looking down the spectacular Pen-y-pass was an equal part of the experience of nature in Snowdonia, as this created a locale in which the mountain was experienced. The ways in which humans experience the landscape are varied: it can even be through representations of the landscape, for example through the maps and pictures lining the walls of the youth hostel. The debate arises as to which provides the most complete picture of the landscape – these maps, including the one pictured, exclude certain aspects of the landscape such as the people who may be encountered on the paths, and how busy they are.
Spinney (2006) argues for a phenomenological approach to landscape, where it is experienced pre-cognitively through the senses – the body and the landscape are intertwined through movements, urges, emotions, or routines. Motility is of utmost importance here due to the body’s capabilities to access a new layer of meaning from the landscape through the senses such as temperature monitoring, vision, and kinaesthesia (Spinney, 2006). Kinaesthesia was particularly important when ascending Snowdon, due to the thick cloud clinging to the mountainside – like Ingold (2000, in Spinney, 2006), I felt rather than saw the contours of the landscape due to the muscle burn of ascending and the shifting of scree beneath by boots.
Overall, looking at my experience of Snowdon through a geographical lens demonstrates how concepts within the discipline of human geography are endlessly applicable even in a setting which many would initially not associate with humans – the wilderness of Snowdon is not, in fact, wild at all, but permeated with human relations.
Apostolopoulou, E., (2016) Nature. [Lecture to BA Geography Year 1]. Oxford University, 30th November 2016.
Llyn Gwynant Campsite (2017). Walking. [online] Available at: http://gwynant.com/activities/walks/ (Accessed: 1st October 2017).
Spinney, J. (2006) A place of sense: a kinaesthetic ethnography of cyclists on Mont Ventoux. Environment and Planning D: Society and Space, 24, 709-732.
Summer Geographies: Stoke Potters by Mason Gain
One day over the summer vacation I visited the Emma Bridgewater ceramics factory for a tour, which was originally intended to please my grandmother, a lover of the brand. However, upon arrival in Stoke-on-Trent it was striking how the pottery industry was so overwhelming, so much so that the nickname of the local football club has become “The Potters”. This began to make me think about how this could have occurred, which drove me to want to better understand how one single city has developed such growth in one industry that has led to the city itself being represented by such a nickname. After founding the company in Oxfordshire in 1985 Emma was later told that if her wish was to scale the business to a greater proportion and mass produce, then the only way this would be achievable was if she were to move to Stoke-on-Trent and set up production there. So, what is it about the city of Stoke-on-Trent that has made it such an ideal place to set up and succeed with ceramics production, and does this look set to continue into the future?
Located in the North of the county of Staffordshire, Stoke-on-Trent has historically had an ideal geographical location for the expansion of the pottery industry. Pottery in Stoke-on-Trent dates back to the 17th Century (Birks, 2008), due to the abundance of clay, salt (used for glazing) and coal (used in the kilns). Therefore, at first glance the city seems a perfect geographical location for the production of pottery. Not only was the geographical location ideal, but the socio-economic conditions were a great fit with the low wages and living costs of the local population meaning that it was very cheap to produce here for the industry owners (Visit Stoke, 2017).
In the mid-18th Century the red-burning clays that originate from nearby Stoke-on-Trent in fact became out of fashion against the preferred white-burning clays meaning that in the mid-18th Century ‘The Potters’ had to seek an alternative solution so that they were not destroyed by competitors. With cheap production costs and a city population of which half were skilled craftspeople in the industry, it was not a viable solution to move the industry to a location where geographical conditions were more suitable to sourcing white-burning clay. Instead, transporting raw materials from Devon and Dorset to Stoke-on-Trent seemed to be the best response to this problem (Visit Stoke, 2017). After a period of around 30 years of transporting the clay, the construction of the Trent and Mersey Canal in 1777 meant that transportation was made cheaper and easier than ever before (Wikipedia, 2017; Visit Stoke, 2017). This led to the industry thriving more than ever before, with raw materials and finished products being able to be transported easier and more cost-efficiently, whilst fuel was still sourced locally.
However, this does not exactly hold true today. With the closure of many mines and factories in the recent decades due to foreign competition, ‘The Potters’ are not as strong as they used to be in the industry. Since 1970 there has been approximately 170 factories closing, leaving only 30 left today along with approximately 20,000 jobs being lost between 1998 and 2008 (Nicholls, 2011). Nicholls (2011) highlights that the foreign competition has been very harsh to many manufacturers, as manufacturing processes remain the same as they always have, which means that it is difficult for the industry in Stoke-on-Trent to compete with the relaxed regulations and lower production costs of their foreign competitors. This has meant that the industry in Stoke-on-Trent is now made up of only high-end producers who thrive more upon the quality of their produce and the reputation of their brand as it is impossible for them to compete on price. Therefore, Emma Bridgewater, who entered the industry in 1985 fought against all odds in what was a declining industry at the time of their founding. They have built a reputable brand that has been able to stand out against cheaper foreign goods.
In conclusion, the city of Stoke-on-Trent has historically been an ideal geographical location for the manufacturing of ceramics due to the raw materials present in the local surroundings as well as efficient transport mechanisms with the canal system, which has made for success in the city. However, in more modern times as the industry has faced difficult competition, the geographical location no longer benefits the industry but instead success in the city has depended on reputable brands and top-quality produce.
Birks, S. 2008. Stoke-on-Trent the world’s largest and most famous pottery producing city… [online] Available at: http://www.thepotteries.org/sot/five.htm [Accessed 3 October 2017]
Nicholls, D. 2011. All fired up: the future of pottery. [online] Available at: <http://www.telegraph.co.uk/lifestyle/interiors/8281433/All-fired-up-the-future-of-pottery.html> [Accessed 3 October 2017]
Visit Stoke, 2017. 18th Century Ceramics in Stoke-on-Trent. [online] Available at: http://www.visitstoke.co.uk/ceramics-trail/history-18century.aspx [Accessed 3 October 2017]
Wikipedia, 2017. Stoke-on-Trent. [online] Available at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stoke-on-Trent. [Accessed 3 October 2017]
For her Summer Geographies project, Aisling Taylor produced an excellent report on mountain gorillas in Uganda. Watch her short documentary here.
Well done Aisling – we loved the creativity of your submission.
Why read Geography at Keble? A preview of student experiences produced by Keble Geographers…
by Rakan Dajani
and the second book prize to Hannah – congratulations.
Lebanon: a state without a nation
by Hannah Ritchie
‘To create a country is one thing; to create a nationality is another’ (Salibi, 1993. Cited in Varady, 2017) and arguably nowhere is this more apparent than in Lebanon, a state arbitrarily created by the West in which 18 sects have been forced into coexistence, creating a mosaic of distinct and often conflicting factions. As a result, Lebanon has long been riddled with sectarian disharmony, obstructing the formation of a genuine and cohesive national identity (Varady, 2017). It is widely recognised that, for the vast majority of the population, religious loyalty is regarded as sacrosanct while patriotism is little more than a myth, an issue which came to light almost instantly on my recent trip to Beirut.
In order to manage such a complex and volatile amalgamation of sects, a confessional political system emerged in which each sect is designated specific roles in government, ensuring equal representation for the Christian and Muslim populations. However, while confessionalism may be a vital tool in sustaining coexistence, it is arguably counter-productive in terms of long-term nation-building as it cements, rather than dilutes, internal distinctions (Varady, 2017). This point was stressed by the Druze prince Majid Arslan when I met him in Beirut, who argued that such a rigid confessional system is fundamentally flawed and unsustainable; it creates a façade of cooperation between factions, hiding the reality of a fractious and contested system which, by so inflexibly distinguishing between religious sects, prevents a unified nation from developing out of an institutional state (ibid).
The divergence of Lebanese sects and their respective identities cannot, however, be blamed solely on the overarching political system. Particularly through conversations with my host, a Lebanese Orthodox Christian, it became apparent that there is significant bottom-up resistance to the formation of a united national identity, as he deemed different sects to be inferior and insignificant. This form of ‘othering’ which proliferates throughout the general population aids the fragmentation of Lebanese society and the strengthening of sectarian, rather than national, identities. Despite such sentiments being endemic amongst the public, Majid Arslan remained optimistic that younger generations, those too young to have experienced the 1975-1990 civil war in which sectarian tensions reached a peak, will prove more tolerant of religious differences. He therefore suggested, contrary to much of the contemporary commentary on the state of Lebanon, that divisions along sectarian lines may be gradually deteriorating, with national unity becoming a more likely (although far from guaranteed) future.
In addition, the internal dynamics of the Lebanese state cannot be fully understood without an appreciation of the wider regional context; the Syrian civil war has had profound implications for Lebanon, destabilising the already fragile state as sectarian rifts are forced to escalate, with opposition between Sunni and Shia Muslims becoming especially tense (Bahout, 2014). An implication of the intensification of conflict in the Levant has been the increasing paranoia of communities who perceive their entire existence to be under threat, as well as the consequent replacement of ‘interest-based political turf lines’ with ‘“identity”-based imaginary boundaries’ (ibid, p.4). Whether it be Sunnis, Shias, Maronites, Druze, or any of the other 18 Lebanese sects, these communities increasingly focus on the necessity of self-preservation, inevitably escalating inter-sectarian hostility. The porosity of official boundaries across the Middle East, in both real and imaginary terms, has also meant that state borders are increasingly perceived as meaningless for sectarian communities (Spyer, 2014). While the state remains officially intact, the practical insignificance of the boundaries arguably reduces the efforts made by sects towards nation-building and cooperation as they do not feel committed to or constrained within the state.
Sectarian conflict in Lebanon has also been magnified both by the involvement of foreign powers in Lebanese affairs, either directly or by proxy, as well as the involvement of Lebanese actors in foreign conflicts, most notably in Syria. Hezbollah, for example, is often said to have become a ‘state within a state’ (Abdul-Hussain, 2009), capitalising on the weakness of central government while relying on the backing of Iran, it’s Shia ally, in order to gain de facto sovereignty within its strongholds. Hezbollah exploits sectarian divisions to augment the influence it commands over the Shia population, as well as over Lebanon as a whole. By emphasizing the importance of religious loyalty, the Lebanese population becomes increasingly fragmented and a single national identity appears to be not just unachievable but also undesirable.
Ultimately, Lebanon has failed to develop a unified national identity to encompass and blend the complex myriad of religious and social groups that fall within its borders (Varady, 2017). Society is intrinsically divided along sectarian lines and although this is not necessarily incurable, it is for the time being a chronic issue riddling the country. It is therefore apparent that while Lebanon is a state, claims that it is a nation-state are little more than illusions which fail to recognise the fundamental sectarian divisions undermining any notion of genuine national unity and cohesion.
Abdul-Hussain, H. (2009) Hezbollah: a state within a state. [online] Hudson Institute. Available at: https://www.hudson.org/research/9801-hezbollah-a-state-within-a-state [Accessed 5th October 2017]
Bahout, J. (2014) Lebanon at the Brink: The Impact of the Syrian Civil War. [online] Crown Centre for Middle East Studies. Available at: https://www.brandeis.edu/crown/publications/meb/MEB76.pdf [Accessed 5th October 2017]
Spyer, J. (2014) Do ‘Syria’, ‘Iraq’ and ‘Lebanon’ still exist? [online] Middle East Forum. Available at: http://www.meforum.org/3751/syria-iraq-lebanon-nation-states [Accessed 4th October 2017]
Varady C. (2017) Lebanon: A Crowded State Without a Nation. In: US Foreign Policy and the Multinational Force in Lebanon. Palgrave Macmillan, Cham
Our second year geographers shared some of their recent adventures by sending in short essays that were designed to show where and how they encountered geography over the summer. Staying with an iconic theme of geography, all of the entries involved travel to a different place, whether in the UK or abroad.
The essays were strong and in the end we decided to award two book prizes for a joint first place based on their engaging insight and interpretation which demonstrated engagement with ideas that will be explored in forthcoming Geography lectures. Over the next week we’ll be sharing with you all of these short essays.
In no particular order, one of the book prizes is awarded for the following essay: congratulations Ludo.
A Stateless Nation? The Rohingya Muslims and their lack of citizenship
by Ludo Findlay
During my vacation I visited Myanmar/ Burma and was interested to find out that despite only ‘opening up’ to tourism recently, it was still forbidden for foreigners to visit parts of the country. This piece will focus on one of the ‘closed off’ states, Rakhine, and the Rohingya Muslims who live there, who have been denied legal citizenship of Burma, and who have been increasingly thought to be the subject of an ethnic cleansing (Ratcliffe, 2017). In this report I will explore how the lack of citizenship has affected the Rohingya people, particularly in their lack of rights and their sense of belonging to the country, and why neither the government of Burma nor its neighbouring country Bangladesh have granted the Rohingya people legal citizenship.
The Rakhine state is on the far western side of Burma and borders Bangladesh, with a 1/3rd of its inhabitants being Rohingya Muslims (Smith and Krol, 2017). This is vastly different to the demographics of the country as a whole, with the Rohingya people only make up 3% of the national population. The Rohingya people are the descendants of Arab traders who settled in what we now know as Rakhine State in the 14th Century (Kosem and Saleem, 2016) but despite being ethnically Burmese and having lived there for hundreds of years, they have not been recognised as such in the last 50 years, and consequently have not been granted legal citizenship (Galache, 2017).
This lack of legal citizenship has led to large restrictions placed upon the Rohingya people’s freedom of movement, access to medical assistance and education, leading to them living in conditions which people have deemed apartheid-like (Jaswal, 2017). Furthermore, they are banned from owning land and have been “subjected to various forms of extortion and arbitrary taxation, land confiscation, forced eviction, and house destruction” (Kosem and Saleem, 2016, p212). This has led to unrest amongst the Rohingya people, culminating on an attack against a few Buddhist policemen, in which the Burmese government retaliated with what the UN has described as ethnic cleansing operation, with Rohingya villages being burnt, women raped and children murdered (Nelson, 2012). The Rohingya’s only form of defence has been to flee across the border into Bangladesh, where they are too treated as illegal immigrants. Throughout this recent trouble, it is thought that 500,000 Rohingya people have become refugees, half of the Rohingya population (Ratcliffe, 2017).
So why has legal citizenship not been granted to the Rohingya people? In 1962, the military took dictatorial control of the country via a coup d’état and sought to use nationalism as a political tool, thus proliferating the influence of the Bamar, the largest ethnic group in Burma, comprising 70% of its population (Kosem and Saleem, 2016). During this time, the Rohingya people were perceived as foreigners, as they shared more cultural and physical characteristics with Bangladeshis than Burmese people (Kosem and Saleem, 2017, p212). This was most clearly seen by their language, which is very similar to the Bengali dialect of Chittagong (Ratcliffe, 2017), but most importantly they are Muslims, whilst the Bamar ethnicity is allied very closely with Buddhism. As a result of this political nationalist movement, the Rohingya Muslims, amongst other minority ethnic groups, were not granted citizenship, and their descendants continue to be denied it too (Galache, 2017). The official Myanmar government version dictates that the Rohingya were Bangladeshis brought over by the British during the colonial era, when both Bangladesh and Myanmar were controlled by Britain, and thus due to them being brought be the colonists, are illegal immigrants and shouldn’t be regarded as legal citizens (Smith and Krol, 2017). Meanwhile, over in Bangladesh, the country cannot afford to have almost half a million refugees entering the country whilst it itself is in a poor economic position, particularly when it rightly recognises that the Rohingya people are Burmese and not Bangladeshi.
This unique situation has led to the Rohingya population ‘belonging’ nowhere. Belonging can be seen in a geographical sense as primarily social, and is about inclusion and exclusion, rather than a sense of familiarity (Ralph and Staeheli, 2011). Although they share a national past and a homeland with the rest of the Burmese population, their treatment by the government has led them to feel that they do not belong in Burma, largely due to their religious differences with the majority of Burmese people, which affects how they are perceived by the other Burmese ethnic groups (Samer, 2010). Even when a pilot group of Rohingya Muslims were granted legal citizenship in 2012, other ethnic groups still viewed them with suspicion, with certain areas requiring them to have special permits to travel to them (Galache, 2017). I personally experienced this view when discussing the situation with various Burmese people (all of Bamar ethnicity), who did not consider the Rohingya as ethnically Burmese.
In conclusion, it seems that a nationalist movement led by the military junta and centred on the Bamar people, has led to a situation where the Rohingya are seen as foreigners in the only land they have ever known. The lack of citizenship has prevented assimilation into the Burmese culture, and due to the military intent on removing the ‘illegal immigrants’, a terrible genocide is taking place.
Galache, A. (2017) Citizenship for a few, rights for none: the Rohingya in Myanmar [online] Available at: https://www.equaltimes.org/citizenship-for-a-few-rights-for?lang=en#.WcuzAoWcGuU [Accessed on 24th September 2017]
Jaswal, M. (2017) Aliens In Their Own Land [online] Available at: https://www.youthkiawaaz.com/2017/03/the-stateless-humans-of-myanmar/ [Accessed 24th September 2017]
Kosem S., Saleem A. (2016) Religion, Nationalism, and the Rohingya’s Search for Citizenship in Myanmar. In: Mason R. (eds) Muslim Minority-State Relations. The Modern Muslim World. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. P.211-212.
Nelson, D (2012) Burma considers citizenship for Rohingya Muslims [online] Accessed at: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/asia/burmamyanmar/9648329/Burma-considers-citizenship-for-Rohingya-Muslims.html [Accessed 24th September 2017]
Ralph, D. and Staeheli, L. (2011) ‘Home and migration: mobilities, belongings and identities’ Geography Compass, 5(7): 517-530.
Ratcliffe, R. (2017) Who are the Rohingya and what is happening in Myanmar? [online] Available at: https://www.theguardian.com/global-development/2017/sep/06/who-are-the-rohingya-and-what-is-happening-in-myanmar [Accessed 24th September 2017]
Samers (2010) Migration. Abingdon: Routledge
Smith, N. and Krol, C. (2017) Who are the Rohingya Muslims? [online] Available at: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/0/rohingya-muslims/ [Accessed 24th September 2017]
by Rakan Dajani who spent his summer in Palestine, part of it on his undergraduate dissertation.
Being in Palestine grounded the ideas and forgotten memories of my family having left in 1948- at the time of the ‘Nakba’- ‘catastrophe’. My understanding of Palestine was formed in the intermediary, between these memories passed through generations but also through the various articles, books and films that sought to understand Palestine, represent its casualties and even predict its future.
What I found were the limitations of all my ideas and conceptions- all sound yet suffocated by the inability to bring experience to them. The occupation in Palestine is real and dealt with everyday by people leading different lives. It challenged me to negotiate this paradox between a spectrum of ideas and arguments and these everyday realities on the ground- it felt insufficient to understand this country through crafty words that gave me a overinflated sense of insight. Words, photographs and music are all representational forms of communication and as we have learnt from history, a ‘crisis of representation’ (Soderstrom 2005:13) cautions any less than sceptical understandings of what we read, see or hear.
It made me think of the power of our imagination. ‘Imagination’ should not be considered fantastical but rather quite subtly formed by such representations and narratives that form our daily lives. A travel advert, a friend who visited and a politician’s speech are a few of the countless ways our imagination of a place grows both in complexity but also in some ways, a sense of clarity. The layers of contexts that shape the advert develops into a story in itself, the tongue-in-cheek bold assertions made at the UN inevitably with its own agenda and rhetorical devices but also the friend’s visit re-told through embodied encounters that itself is infused within that friend’s imagination. Edward Said and Derek Gregory expand upon the idea of the geographical imagination as fabrications that combine “something fictionalised” and “something made real”. The multiple Imaginations of Palestine have formed over time, each imagination reflecting the narratives that surround one’s life- for example the imaginary of Palestine composed of different elements for an Orthodox priest as compared to a historian in America.
Imaginations of Palestine within the diasporas community are often romanticised. Descriptions of ‘our true home’ seemed naive in light of the stark reality of a deeply degraded society as a result of the occupuation. These imaginations, as are most, were not completely naive and I found the qualities of ‘home’ and ‘hospitality’ deemed true yet it was clear that Palestine would not fit into any imagination exclusively, be it romanticised or conflict-ridden. The 4 weeks that I spent in Palestine were bounding ‘here’ and ‘there’, the fiction with the real, and most of all attempting to challenge my imaginations of Palestine into grounded informed experiences.
Our previous understandings should not be underestimated in its power to determine our experiences of a place. It is centuries of orientalisation that today we have realised that it has influenced the way we travel- our gazes as tourists (Urry 2002) and the experiences we seek, oftentimes serving to reinforce our imaginations. My awareness of the political struggle at times led me to only ‘see’ the occupation and all its suffering. But what I soon noticed was the frustration of traffic, the young teenagers speeding on motorcycles on the way to bars, the trivial yet important fact that it would be unfair to Palestinians if I only understood the place they lived in through the Separation Wall or Friday protests. It is a burden that every traveller should carry, explore and then let go of- the burden of misrepresentation, orientalisations or even misinformed understandings that weigh down any authenticity of experience as our imaginations are always in compromise with any confrontation with reality.
I spent time in Palestine visiting Hebron, Jerusalem, Jaffa and Jericho but I based myself in Bethlehem where I conducted research on tourism as a new frontier of occupation. It explored the themes of geographical imaginations, architecture and occupation as well as the touristic gaze. A large portion of my time was working as a gallery receptionist at Banksy’s Walled Off Hotel which has been at the forefront of Bethlehem’s political tourism. The research brought me into contact with all sorts of characters that had their own relationship with the Hotel but also tourism’s effect on Bethlehem. Unlike anywhere in the world, the Church of Nativity attracts millions of pilgrims every year but given Israeli control over borders and people into Bethlehem, the majority of these pilgrims arrive in Tel Aviv on package tours and are brought en masse to the Church leaving Bethlehem within a few hours thereby summarising their time in the West Bank. This leaves the majority of tourists on their transient encounter with Palestine with impressions of the Biblical Holy Land or Israel as an oasis of civilisation surrounded by tyranny and fanaticism. Narratives of a dangerous West Bank are sold to these tourists and as such Bethlehem faces a declining sector of tourism. The occupational forces dominate physically over the land and people but the struggle over space has developed into a struggle over ideas and imaginings of the space. A Wall guide explained to me ‘Being a tourist here is a political act’. He is one of the many guides who form part of the Wall-type alternative tourism sector in Bethlehem which tours the refugee camps, the Separation Wall and explores darker side to the Holy Land all with the idea of ‘seeing’ the real Palestine. So being a tourist, particularly in Bethlehem but inevitably anywhere in the world is political, one participates and engages with different narratives and imaginations all in competition to be adopted into the tourist’s mind-safe of collected imaginaries. As I mentioned, Palestine would still not fit into any imagination exclusively, be it a romanticised Holy Land or conflict-ridden, by dismissing my imaginations, the imaginations in front of me, I was able to experience Palestine for what it was… a place far away from any imagination now.
It is the questioning of the dominant imaginations that tourists and explorers, abroad or at home should be aspiring to ask as part of their trips, down the road or across the world.
SODERSTROM, O. (2005) Representation. In Atkinson, D., Jackson P., Sibley D. and Washbourne, N. Cultural Geography: a critical dictionary of key concepts. London: I.B. Tauris & Co. Ltd
URRY, J. (2002) The Tourist Gaze, 2nd edition. London, Sage Publications.
Congratulations to former Keble Geographer (2016) Alex Henry on receipt of the Alfred Steers Dissertation Prize awarded by the Royal Geographical Society for best dissertation nationally, 2016. Alex’s project in the field of climate geography was supervised by Keble’s Richard Washington. Well done to Richard too.
Bravo to Aisling, Emma, Hannah, Ludo and Mason on their first year exam results with four distinctions.
Keble also celebrated another fine year of geography Finalists. Congratulations to all and particularly to Clara, Charlie and Jack for their Firsts. We wish you all well as you embark on life beyond Keble, though we are pleased to welcome Charlie back who will be starting a Masters programme in October 2017.
Following a visit to the BMW MINI Plant, Cowley, first year geographer Emma Carter asks:
In what ways does the MINI Plant, Cowley, provide a useful example of economic and/or social transformations?
The structure and organisation of the UK’s economy and society is morphing from one distinct phase of capitalist development to a new phase (Coe and Jones, 2010). This is observable socially not only in the changes in the workforce structure and gendered division of labour over the last half century (McDowell, 2009 in Coe and Jones, 2010) but, economically in the way in which industries are run. This is particularly relevant in Plant Oxford, where the BMW Group produce MINI cars in Cowley, Oxford, and this essay will outline the ways in which the plant corresponds to academic discourses surrounding economic and social transformations.
The most notable and material change in the operations of Plant Oxford, Cowley, is the shift over the last half century in the number of workers employed. In the 1970s, over 20,000 people were employed at the British Leyland and Pressed Steel Fisher plants from which today’s MINI plant arose (Wikipedia, no date) whereas today the workforce totals around 4,000 (MINI, 2017). This reflects the automatization of the production process, with thousands of robots replacing human labour to do unskilled tasks such as applying spot welds to the new MINI bodyshell (MINI, 2017). A transfer from the use of humans to machines implies, as suggest Coe and Jones (2010), that workers assume the form of commodities during the working day such that they are easily replaced by inanimate objects if necessary. This reduces the social and hierarchical aspects of work – there is a ‘social and spatial infrastructure that underpins the presences of workers in the labour market’ (Coe and Jones, 2010:203) which is disregarded by the use of technology.
Nonetheless, BMW insists that ‘the knowledge of qualified and motivated people is the basis for products of the highest quality’ (MINI, 2017). Here we see how humans are increasingly valued for their embodied, affective and cerebral attributes over their physical ones, in what is known as the new ‘knowledge economy’ (McDowell, 2012). Whilst the performance of menial tasks can be transferred to machines, this is not the same for the accumulation of experience, knowledge or innovation – therefore workers in high-status service jobs are valued for these things, more so than for their manual labour. This represents a stark contrast to 45 years ago, when employees in vast numbers were needed at each stage of the production process, even if only to lift a car component from one place to another.
This change in manufacturing has led to a marked change in the structure of the UK workforce, which has moved to favour ‘core’ and ‘periphery’ workers within the ‘flexible firm’ (Atkinson, 1984 in Coe and Jones, 2010). Whilst the MINI plant has a permanent workforce, often they will take on supplementary temporary agency workers, such that in 2009 almost a third of the Cowley workforce were agency staff (MacAlister and Pidd, 2009). This allows the firm to have ‘a degree of numerical flexibility’ so that workers can potentially be dismissed at very short notice (Coe and Jones, 2010); Plant Oxford attracted attention for this in 2009 when 850 workers were given one hour’s notice before redundancy (MacAlister and Pidd, 2009), highlighting the vulnerability of those who are ‘last in, first out’ (Coe and Jones, 2010).
Social transformations can be seen in Plant Oxford within the sphere of gender. Whilst in the 1960s, jobs were clearly gender coded and manual occupations earning a living wage were reserved almost exclusively for men (Coe and Jones, 2010), several women can be observed performing manual tasks at the MINI plant and BMW actively encourages the participation of females in their apprenticeships with the ‘Girls Go Technical’ scheme (MINI, 2017). This is a significant departure from the traditional gendered notion of the performance of women being constrained to the domestic setting (Williams, 2000) as women are now able to participate more fully in jobs which had previously been coded as ‘masculine’. However, it would appear that tasks associated with ‘femininity’ are still taken by females, as those working at the front desk were women. This reflects Hochschild’s (1983, in McDowell et al., 2007) ideas of associations between femininity as servile and amenable which makes service sector occupations dominated by women. As a result, McDowell (2003) suggests a ‘crisis of masculinity’ whereby white working class males are being excluded from waged work as a result of their perceived unsuitability for such roles, yet the ‘poor work’ they previously performed is less available – to this end, their sense of masculinity disappears because they are unable to perform the sort of work associated with it. The MINI plant exemplifies this through the proportions of women working in different roles, although men still significantly outnumber women on the workshop floor.
The Cowley MINI plant provides a microcosmic case study of the economic and social transformations which have been underway in the UK for the last fifty or so years. These take the shape of changes to both the size, demography and economic structure of the workforce, reflecting the important of human actors in the economy. With increasing automatization and the rise in technology, as well as increasing emancipation of women and participation in the job market, perhaps these trends will continue into the future.
Coe, N.M. and Jones, A. (eds.) 2010. The Economic Geography of the UK. London; Los Angeles: Sage Publications.
Wikipedia (no date) Plant Oxford. [online] Available at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plant_Oxford (Accessed 17th May 2017).
MINI (2017) MINI Plant Oxford. [online] Available at: http://www.mini-production-triangle.com/home.aspx (Accessed 17th May 2017).
McDowell, L. (2012) Post-crisis, post-Ford and post-gender? Youth identities in an era of
austerity, Journal of Youth Studies 15, 573-590.
MacAlister, T. and Pidd, H. (2009) Uproar in Cowley as BMW confirms 850 job cuts at Mini
Factory. The Guardian. [online] Available at:
Williams, J. (2000) Unbending Gender. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
McDowell, L. et al. (2007) ‘Division, segmentation, and interpellation: the embodied labours of migrant workers in a Greater London hotel’, Economic Geography 83(1): 1-25.
McDowell, L. (2003) Redundant Masculinities? Employment Change and White Working Class Youth. Oxford: Blackwell.
Congratulations to former Geography student, Alex Henry (graduating from Keble in 2016), who has been named by the Royal Geographical Society (with Institute of British Geographers), as the winner of the Alfred Steers dissertation prize, an award for the best UK undergraduate dissertation, 2016. Alex’s dissertation, supervised by Keble’s Richard Washington, examined low level jet streams in central Sahara as part of a wider project that is lead by Richard on the Saharan Climate System.
Alex, along with his peer group, returned to Keble on Saturday 6th May for their graduation ceremony. It was great to see everyone again!
by Sze Ching Cheung,
This summer, I spent over seven weeks volunteering in China, teaching English to a range of Chinese children and youths at four different summer camps. The first of these camps was held in at the Castle Peak Bay Resort in Qingshan Bay, on the east coast of Shangdong province (Figure 1). The location was memorable for its incredible beauty; the combination of mountain and ocean supposedly made it a six-star tourist hotspot. After arriving in the nearby city of Qingdao by train, we embarked on a long coach journey, lengthened by the need to circumvent the Laoshan National Forest Park via a north-western route followed by a southward coastal road. On our last day at the camp, the organisers decided on a hike up a nearby mountain path on which I took a number of scenic photos. It was after I returned home that I ran into a peculiar dilemma when attempting to manually “geo-locate” or “geotag” said photos. Seeing that the general reference map provided by Google was wholly inadequate for my needs, as it lacked the small village roads we walked along let alone the mountain path (Figure 2), I switched to the satellite view to discover an unexpected situation.
To my surprise, the general reference overlay was offset compared to the satellite image (Figure 3). Knowing Google to be fairly accurate with its geographic data, I did some research online. Turns out the Chinese government restricts the use of Chinese geographic data to certain organisations which have been granted express permission, a national security policy lingering on from the Cold War era, as a precaution against foreign companies which may have been a cover for military operations. Combined with the disagreements between Google and the Chinese government over censorship in 2010, and the result is the above map; hilariously, Castle Peak Bay Resort sits fifty metres off the coast. However, upon closer inspection, I realised the overlay was entirely useless for geolocation because restoring the offset puts the Resort on a hill in the midst of terraced farming (Figure 4). The offset was not the only inaccuracy in the geographic data; the GPS coordinates for all the highlighted buildings were also further incorrect.
Abandoning the overlay entirely, I decided to use the satellite image by itself to determine where I had been. The most prominent feature from my photos obviously distinguishable from an aerial view was a reservoir and dam (Figure 5), which I spotted in the upper-left corner of the image. Tracing the route back from there, I pinpointed the approximate true location of the Resort, several hundred metres down the road from where the overlay indicated, but sadly hidden by the clouds such that I could not confirm its location (Figure 6).
I also managed to geolocate the highest point we reached on our hike up the mountain (Figure 7 and 8).
This brief encounter with cartography reminded me again of how subjective maps can be. They are merely a visual representation of the actual location and thus can be manipulated to serve various purposes. For example, to make maps accessible and easy to read, omissions are inevitable; only those features deemed necessary or useful are included. The general reference map (Figure 2) was compiled by Google primarily as a navigational tool for drivers, and so did not include any routes inaccessible to vehicles and was useless for geo-locating photos taken on a mountain hike. From this example alone, such omissions seem harmless; however, when the features that mapmakers omit can have a great impact upon public perceptions as a form of censorship. If all maps of China available to the public were to omit Hong Kong for example, people may eventually disassociate Hong Kong from China in their minds. Similarly, Chinese-made maps of China may include Taiwan in its administrative region (Figure 9), given its insistence on the One-China Policy; maps made elsewhere will have Taiwan as a separate country (Figure 10), highlighting the political motivations which permeate cartography. Additionally, geographic data can be manipulated and falsified just like any other data. China’s scrambling of its own geographic information using a different coordinate plotting system is one example of this, resulting in inaccurate maps for the sake of national security.
Therefore I think the only way to truly discover a place is to visit and investigate it personally; had I not visited Qingshan Bay myself, I would not have been aware that the Resort was incorrectly geo-located on the map for example. This removes external subjectivities that are inevitable and maybe even purposeful in various visual representations of place; these are not only limited to maps, for such subjectivities are also found in artwork and photography based on what the maker wanted to portray. The photos I took (Figure 5 and 7) can only allow others to see Qingshan Bay as I represented it, the views that I decided were beautiful and noteworthy, and cannot compare to a personal there-and-then experience; they are, even for me, just a shadow of the reality of that place. And yet such visual representations are necessary, because there is no way yet to personally experience all places at once, and highly improbable even with a lifetime of travelling. The challenge therefore in geographical investigations is to find the hidden subjectivities and inaccuracies in visual representations of place, especially when they are far subtler than the ones I discovered during my geolocation project.
By Alessandra Martorana
Voluntourism, describing short-term volunteering placements as part of tourist travels, has attracted controversy concerning its efficacy and ethics (Scott, 2015). Despite concerns the industry continues to expand, and voluntourists spend more than two billion dollars annually (Hartman et al., 2014). Voluntourisms advocates argue its negative impacts are avoidable and that it can catalyse positive change (Guttentag, 2009). This summer I undertook a two week volunteering placement teaching English in the Nepali village of Tartong, located in the Helambu district of the Nepali Himalayas. I will analyse this trip in relation to the critiques of voluntourism.
A significant concern surrounding voluntourism is that some programs may reproduce cultural misconstructions between the developed and developing world. Elliott (2013) argues they ‘perpetuate the white saviour complex’. As volunteers and beneficiaries often have vastly different socio-economic statuses, a lack of cultural understanding can lead to condescending relationships (Mohamud, 2013). One issue with some programs is that they are imposed by volunteer organisations without community consultation, meaning the programs aim to ‘save’ the community instead of creating partnerships (Scott, 2016). However, Elliott (2013) argues that ‘voluntourism can be a good thing if you go in knowing that you aren’t going to save anybody’. My trip to Nepal emanated from a Keble humanitarian discussion group, in consideration of group discussions encompassing these issues I endeavoured to avoid contributing to this dynamic, assisted by the fact that ‘HELP’- the charity I worked with, was a local charity established by a former villager. The charity had created the program to improve their own conditions; by recognising these power relations I hope that I avoided a domineering and judgemental approach to volunteering.
A key way the ‘white saviour’ stereotype is propogated is through voluntourist’s photographs. Volountourists may be guilty of appropriating images of suffering in order to portray themselves making a positive impact to their social audiences (Kleinman and Kleinman, 1996). Caton and Santos (2009) argue such photos reproduce hegemonic depictions of non-Westerners, presenting a binary between the ‘backward’ non-west and the modern and superior West. Dasgupta and Kasack (2014) go as far as to assert voluntourist photography represents an ‘imaginary geography whose landscapes are forged by colonialism, and a good deal of narcissism’. To avoid these neocolonial concerns I only posted photos of my experience on social media that showed the stunning mountain views, avoiding any that highlighted the poverty of the area or portrayed myself as a rescuer.
Another problem is that some volunteers may lack the skills necessary to meet their project’s needs, meaning their time is spent ineffectively or potentially they may prevent locals from finding much needed employment (Brown, 2014). During our project evaluations we concluded that projects involving unskilled labour were perhaps deserving of this criticism but felt that teaching English was suited to our skills, being fluent speakers. However, I do recognise weaknesses with my placement; whilst I have lengthy volunteering experience with children this was not a prerequisite nor was a TEFL course. Although we were able to teach English we were dependent on a Nepali teacher providing translations for the children, however the youngest classes were not yet fluent in Nepali, restricting their progress. It would have perhaps been more beneficial to provide supplemental training to an existing English teacher, rather than bring in volunteers. However without volunteers there would be no funds to provide such training. As unpaid volunteers we provided resources and undertook fundraising for HELP. Undoubtedly an advantage of volunteers also being tourists is that they provide revenue to host communities (Guttentag, 2009). This is evident from our trip, we payed the local family we stayed with and hired porters, also by extending my trip an extra week to stay in Kathmandu I contributed to the cities’ tourist industry which has declined since the earthquake. Although it may have been more advantageous to train existing teachers and more environmentally sustainable for me to volunteer locally, unfortunately as a student I am doubtful I would simply donate the money I spent on this trip. This expense was only feasible as I was simultaneously investing in my own experience from the trip.
This realisation led to me reconsider the motives for voluntourism. Whilst voluntourists may be inclined to present their trips as altruistic, Tomazos and Butler (2013) suggest these decisions result from a combination of reasons. These include material motives involving the acquisition of new skills or the inclusion of ‘volunteering’ on a CV which may translate to future monetary gains. Other motivations include escapism, even from oneself- as voluntourists may hope to be transformed by their experience. Personally, I have recognised that whilst altruistic motives and global concerns initiated my interest in voluntourism my decision to undertake my specific placement was also largely influenced by a desire to prove to myself I could handle the challenges of an unfamiliar environment. Whilst I was careful to avoid a ‘white saviour’ narrative when recounting my trip, I now recognise a theme of choosing to survive hardship, which may provide a degree of social currency. Zakaria (2014) states ‘If designer clothes and fancy cars signal material status, a story of a deliberate embrace of poverty signals superiority of character.’ However Scott (2016) argues any motivations other than altruism are not entirely bad as long as the project actually serves to address the host communities’ long-term needs in a responsible manner.
Some of the strongest critiques of voluntourism suggest some projects may be unsustainable. There have been projects where long-term planning has not been considered, for example schools have been built with no remaining funds to employ teachers (Elliott, 2013). There have even been suggestions that voluntourism may cause additional problems, such as medical programs discouraging families from investing in health (Caton and Santos, 2009). Evidence has also shown that the popularity of orphanage voluntourism may be encouraging a race to the bottom for care conditions (Richter and Norman, 2010). Such criticisms are specific to individual programs; when considering my placement it did appear to be sustainable, we elected to teach grammar, a subject the Nepali teacher himself struggled with. The teacher replicated our lesson plans meaning he will hopefully be able to build on our lessons without being dependent on volunteers. Speaking English benefits the children as all of their textbooks are in English, so it aids their overall education and also provides opportunities for employment, especially considering HELP runs a scholarship program. However, perhaps a key issue was the lack of demand for the English language skill in the villages, and although the charity recognised its benefits it is possible that the villagers were not aware of its value and so were less invested in the project. This was reflected in a lack of motivation by some teachers and children (Banerjee and Duflo, 2011).
In conclusion, voluntourism presents a number of problems but also has the capacity to effect positive change, the value of voluntourism, depends on each specific program and its own sustainability. I believe the project I participated in was largely sustainable and I attempted not to enact any cultural misunderstandings however there were a few issues concerning the selection of volunteers and efficiency of the program.
Banerjee, A. and Duflo, E. (2011). Poor economics. New York: PublicAffairs.
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