Abstract: This thesis uses a historical discourse analysis of sociolegal narratives mobilised by First Nations peoples in environmental conflicts in modern Australia to develop three case studies on (1) the Wild Rivers Act 2005, (2) the National Radioactive Waste Management Facility (3) the McArthur River mine. Each case triggered social, legal, and political action by affected Traditional Owners who mobilised narratives that contributed to decolonisation by critiquing and replacing colonial assumptions about the environment and environmental governance. The sources evidencing these decolonising narratives are diverse, reflecting the diverse forms of legal, social, and political participation within First Nations peoples’ resistance to ongoing settler colonialism and its effects on their lands and waters. It is this fact that necessitates the analysis of a broad scope of sources such as petitions; open letters; protest narratives; and legal documents such as court transcripts, submissions, and reports, with O’Brien (2018) providing important precedents for decolonising projects based on the extensive historical study of petitions and related documents. By exploring the sociolegal achievements and narrations of First Nations peoples (individually and collectively) asserting rights to their lands and waters, this research adopts a decolonising approach adept at critiquing and replacing colonial normativity (Mignolo, 2009, 2021). This approach allows the research to answer questions on how decolonisation is framed by First Nations peoples within public debates about the environment, and the implications for understanding environmental politics and policy in Australia and other settler colonial contexts. The results, which are particularised to each case, support the overall argument that the mobilisations and narrations of First Nations peoples defending their lands and waters are decolonising because they critique and replace colonial environmental norms in public fora.



Abstract: This doctoral thesis examines the position of Greek migrants in the colonial societies of sub-Saharan Africa, focusing on their transformation from migrants to settlers. Through the cases of colonial Zimbabwe and Tanzania from the 1890s to the 1950s, it explores how Greeks, as marginal Europeans without a colonial background, were positioned both materially and culturally within these societies. Although generally classified as Europeans in the 20th century, Greeks lacked direct colonial rule background, having themselves been subjects of British and Italian rule in the Ionian Islands, Cyprus, and the Dodecanese. The study argues that Greek migrants’ racial and settler status was fluid, shaped by their economic activities, class, and interactions with European settlers, indigenous communities, and other immigrant groups, such as Indians. In the early period (1890s– 1920s), most Greeks worked as laborers, small shopkeepers, or traders with indigenous populations, often occupying peripheral roles in colonial society. However, from the late 1920s to the 1960s, their status shifted: in Southern Rhodesia, Greeks entered politics and even held mayoral positions in major cities, while in Tanganyika, they acquired extensive agricultural estates—land ownership on a scale rarely seen in their homeland. This dissertation examines the conditions that allowed only certain social classes to access the privileges of settler colonialism and how individuals from a non-imperial background—lacking capital, foreign language skills, and religious or ethnic alignment with ruling elites—were able to integrate into, and sometimes thrive within, colonial structures. Ultimately, it challenges approaches to settler colonialism as an exclusive domain of imperial powers, demonstrating how ‘smaller’ European migrant communities strategically navigated, participated and even influenced colonial systems.


Abstract: Cherie Dimaline’s (Métis) Empire of Wild (2019) and Jessica Johns’s (Cree) Bad Cree (2023) refuse to frame the violent events at their centre as isolated or incidental. Instead, authors situate crises within the long historical continuum of settler-colonialism and its impact on Indigenous communities in Canada. Catriona Mackenzie et al.’s expansive intersectional taxonomy of vulnerability defines its pathogenic variant as emerging from entrenched ‘sociopolitical oppression or injustice.’ Pathogenic vulnerability demonstrates how specific groups can experience conditions that render them more vulnerable to violence. In this article, I argue Dimaline and Johns utilise speculative tropes to interrogate widespread decontextualised state narratives of individual vulnerability. Violent events are alternatively narrated as products of their specific context – the conditions of pathogenic vulnerability conferred upon Indigenous peoples in settler-colonial nations. A central protagonist’s individual search for truth foregrounds narrative engagement with contemporary issues facing communities – Murdered and Missing Indigenous Women, Girls and Two-Spirit People (MMIWG2s) statistics, land grabs, state sponsored industrialism and environmental and psychological devastation within post- extraction communities. Yet authors resist reasserting victim paradigms or employing a reconciliatory politics. Speculative tropes instead encourage what Jo-Ann Archibald (Stó:lō) calls storywork. Such tropes, which denaturalise violent encounters, encourage lateral thinking via nested narratives/metanarratives and embed both traditional monsters and alternative worlds, instigate storywork through inciting deeper reader engagement while foregrounding Indigenous agency, knowledge and resistance.






Excerpt: The GREAT plan (subtitled “From a Demolished Iranian Proxy to a Prosperous Abrahamic Ally”), like its kin proposals, is also a recapitulation, recombination and acceleration of multiple forms and devices of domination emerging from the history of colonial racial capitalism. As a node in what it calls “the Abrahamic fabric” of this imperial region, the political form to be taken by Gaza is that of a “U.S.-led multilateral custodianship.” The Trust, we are told, will govern Gaza “for a transition period until a reformed and deradicalized Palestinian Polity is ready to step in its shoes.” To implement this structure of antipolitical governance—an echo of the UN Mandate system which regarded certain populations as unready (or in the case of Palestinians, unfit) for self-governance without European tutelage—this machine to void Palestinian sovereignty, premised on the subaltern’s willingness to mature into a willing and pacific client, GREAT includes its own productions of neocolonial space, namely what it terms “Hamas-free humanitarian transition zones.” Presented with operational maps, these “humanitarian transitions areas,” to be managed by the Gaza Humanitarian Foundation and then a “hybrid security framework,” are the not-very-distant descendants of the British practice of resettlement into “new villages” in Kenya and Malaya, the French policy of regroupement in Algeria, and United States’s own strategy of “hamletization” in Vietnam. Demonstrating the sheer continuity in the ruling imaginary of counterinsurgency, the very design of the “New Gaza,” with its golf courses and green areas, draws on the history of social war in the imperial metropolis itself. As we can read in one of the slides: “Like Haussman’s strategy in 19th century Paris, this plan aims to address one of Gaza’s ongoing insurgency’s root causes: its urban design.” Felicitously, spatial discipline can now be complemented by cybernetic control, once “all services and economy in these cities will be done through ID-based AI-powered digital system.” But GREAT has a much wider horizon than the mere management of pacification in the wake of genocide. In the breathlessly vapid language of venture-capitalist visionaries, it sings of raising billions in public private investment, employing an “innovative funding model” that would combine some kind of “tokenized” “land trust” whose returns would be invested in a “Wealth Fund for Gaza.” Gaza’s value, now estimated at 0 dollars, would rise in ten years to over $300 billion (accompanied by “1 million jobs”). Critical to GREAT’s vision is the idea of Gaza as a “hub” in a vast logistical-extractive-productive regional complex to compete with China. The establishment of the “New Gaza” would serve to accelerate the profitable integration of the India-Middle East-Europe Economic Corridor (IMEC) and transform the Strip into the “center of pro-American regional architecture,” securing economic, political, and military power over the circulation of energy, capital, and commodities (special attention is given to “rare-earth minerals”). As Ziadah argues, what “is being imagined is not recovery for [Gaza’s] residents, but the conversion of Gaza into a logistics centre serving IMEC,” “a corporatized trusteeship for global capital”. In GREAT, she concludes, “Gaza is described less as a society than as a distressed asset to be flipped. This is disaster capitalism at its sharpest. It is devastation reframed as the precondition for speculative profit.”


Abstract: At the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries, Siberia once again became a “melting pot” that brought together representatives of diverse ethnic groups. The reasons for migration beyond the Urals were predominantly economic. This article examines how various social events in the first third of the 20th century affected the lives of Siberian Germans. Amid the agrarian crisis, Russian Germans engaged in agriculture were compelled to seek ways to survive within Russia. The modernization of the state resettlement policy in the early 20th century and the expansion of rail transport created favorable conditions for labor migration, as a result of which, by the mid-1910s, Siberia had become one of the most rapidly developing agrarian regions. German settlers played no small part in this process by establishing capitalist family-farm enterprises that served as models for Russian oldsettlers and other migrants. The events of 1914–1922 disrupted the established rhythms of German rural life. The economic policies of the Bolsheviks who came to power precipitated famine in the first half of the 1920s. The German population suffered as well, which fueled growing emigration sentiment. Even so, the New Economic Policy (NEP) and the revival of cooperatives enabled a rapid recovery of small scale commodity production. The All-Russian Mennonite Agricultural Union played an important role in this process. The gradual rollback of the NEP and the shift to a command-administrative economic model brought increasing pressure to bear on the German population, among which conservative clerical sentiments predominated. By the late 1920s, this would trigger a new round of confrontation between Russian Germans and the Soviet state. This article will interest readers concerned with the history of ethnic minorities (Russian Germans) and nationalities policy in the 20th century.