Reserve Text: Chapter 10: "Census, Map, Museum" from Benedict Anderson, Imagined Communities. New York: Verso, 1989. Preface to the Second Edition
It is not only
the world that has changed its face over the past To adapt Imagined
Communities to the demands of these vast changes in the world and
in the text is a task beyond my present means. It seemed better, therefore,
to leave it largely as an 'unrestored' period piece, with its own characteristic
style, silhouette, and mood. Two things give me comfort. On the one
hand, the full final outcome of developments in the old socialist world
remain shrouded in the obscurity ahead. On the other hand, the idiosyncratic
method and preoccupations of Imagined Communities seem to me still on
the margins of the newer scholarship on nationalism -in that sense,
at least, not fully superseded. What I have tried
to do, in the present edition, is simply to correct errors of fact,
conception, and interpretation which I should have avoided in preparing
the original version. These corrections -in the spirit of1983, as it
were -involve some alterations of the first edition, as well as two
new chapters, which basically have the character of discrete appendices. In the main text, I discovered two serious errors of translation, at least one unfulfilled promise, and one misleading emphasis. Unable to read Spanish in 1983, I thoughtlessly relied on Leon Ma. Guerrero's English translation of Jose Rizal's Noli Me Tangere, although earlier ------------------------------------------- It had been part
of my original plan to stress the New World origins of nationalism.
My feeling had been that an unselfconscious provincialism had long skewed
and distorted theorizing on the subject. European scholars, accustomed
to the conceit that everything important in the modern world originated
in Europe, too easily took 'second generation' ethnolinguistic nationalisms
(Hungarian, Czech, Greek, Polish, etc.) as the starting point in their
modelling, no matter whether they were 'for' or 'against' nationalism.
I was startled to discover, in many of the notices of Imagined Communities,
that this Eurocentric provincialism remained quite undisturbed, and
that the crucial chapter on the originating Americas was largely ignored.
Unfortunately, I have found no better 'instant' solution to this problem
than to retitle Chapter 4 as 'Creole Pioneers.' The two 'appendices'
try to correct serious theoretical flaws in the first edition.2 A number
of friendly critics had suggested that Chapter 7 ('The Last Wave') oversimplified
the process whereby early 'Third World' nationalisms were modelled.
Furthermore the chapter did not seriously address the question of the
role of the local colonial state, rather than the metropole, in styling
these nationalisms. At the same time, I became uneasily aware that what
I had believed to be a significantly new contribution to thinking about
nationalism -------------------------------- 2. The first appendix originated in a paper prepared for a conference held in Karachi in January 1989, sponsored by the World Institute for Development Economics Research of the United Nations University. A sketch for the second appeared in The Times Literary Supplement of June 13, 1986, under the rubric 'Narrating the Nation.' changing apprehensions of time -patently lacked its necessary coordinate: changing apprehensions of space. A brilliant doctoral thesis by Thongchai Winichakul, a young Thai historian, stimulated me to think about mapping's contribution to the nationalist imagination. 'Census, Map, Museum'
therefore analyses the way in which, quite unconsciously, the nineteenth-century
colonial state (and policies that its mindset encouraged) dialectically
engendered the grammar of the nationalisms that eventually arose to
combat it. Indeed, one might go so far as to say that the state imagined
its local adversaries, as in an ominous prophetic dream, well before
they came into historical existence. To the forming of this imagining,
the census's abstract quantification/ serialization of persons, the
map's eventual logoization of political space, and the museum's 'ecumenical,'
profane genealogizing made interlinked contributions. The origin of the
second 'appendix' was the humiliating recognition that in 1983 I had
quoted Renan without the slightest understanding of what he had actually
said: I had taken as something easily ironical what was in fact utterly
bizarre. The humiliation also forced me to realize that I had offered
no intelligible explanation of exactly how, and why, new-emerging nations
imagined themselves antique. What appeared in most of the scholarly
writings as Machiavellian hocuspocus, or as bourgeois fantasy, or as
disinterred historical truth, struck me now as deeper and more interesting.
Supposing 'antiquity' were, at a certain historical juncture, the necessary
consequence' of 'novelty?' If nationalism was, as I supposed it, the
expression of a radically changed form of consciousness, should not
awareness of that break, and the necessary forgetting of the older consciousness,
create Aside from any
theoretical merits or demerits the two 'appendices' may prove to have,
each has its own more everyday limitations. The data for 'Census, Map,
Museum' are drawn wholly from Southeast Asia. In some ways this region
offers splendid opportunities for comparative theorizing
since it comprises areas formerly colonized by almost all the great
imperial powers (England, France, Holland, Portugal, Spain and the United
States) as well as uncolonized Siam. Nonetheless, it remains to be seen
whether my analysis, even if plausible for this region, can be convincingly
applied around the globe. In the second appendix, the sketchy empirical
material relates almost exclusively to Western Europe and the New World,
regions on which my knowledge is quite superficial. But the focus had
to be there since it was in these zones that the amnesias of nationalism
were first voiced over. Benedict Anderson
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