Description: The mid-nineteenth-century gold rushes bring to mind raucous mining camps and slapped-together cities populated by carousing miners, gamblers, and prostitutes. Yet many of the white men who went to the gold fields were products of the Victorian era: educated men who valued morality and order. Examining the closely linked gold rushes in California and British Columbia, historian Christopher Herbert shows that these men worried about the meaning of their manhood in the near-anarchic, ethnically mixed societies that grew up around the mines. As white gold rushers emigrated west, they encountered a wide range of people they considered inferior and potentially dangerous to white dominance, including Latin American, Chinese, and Indigenous peoples.

The way that white miners interacted with these groups reflected their conceptions of race and morality, as well as the distinct political principles and strategies of the US and British colonial governments. The white miners were accustomed to white male domination, and their anxiety to continue it played a central role in the construction of colonial regimes. In addition to renovating traditional understandings of the Pacific Slope gold rushes, Herbert argues that historians’ understanding of white manliness has been too fixated on the eastern United States and Britain. In the nineteenth century, popular attention largely focused on the West. It was in the gold fields and the cities they spawned that new ideas of white manliness emerged, prefiguring transformations elsewhere.



Abstract: Much contemporary science fiction urges us to focus on eco-activism and sustainable futures in order to prevent environmental catastrophe. From a critical Indigenous and anticolonial perspective, however, the question becomes “for whom are these futures sustainable”? Set in a nondescript desert dystopia, George Miller’s film Mad Max: Fury Road 2015 alludes to the westerns of yesteryear and the Australian “outback”—spaces coded as menacing in their resistance to being tamed by settler-colonial interests. This article charts how Miller’s film, while preoccupied with issues pertaining to global warming and ecological collapse, replicates and reifies settler replacement narratives, or what Canadian literature scholar Margery Fee has referred to as “totem transfer” narratives (1987). In these narratives, ultimately the “natives” transfer their knowledges and then disappear from view, helping white settlers remedy the self-created ills that currently threaten their worlds and enabling them to inherit the land.

In the second half, I also consider how Indigenous futurist texts offer decolonizing potentials that refute the replacement narratives that persist in settler-colonial contexts. In particular, I examine how Indigenous cultural production emphasizes the importance of the intergenerational transfer of Indigenous knowledges and refuses the hermeneutic of reconciliation that seeks to discipline Indigenous futures in the service of a settler-colonial present.



Abstract: This thesis uses Historic Geographic Information Systems (HGIS) to uncover the continuing and new patterns of land use in colonial Van Diemen’s Land to 1835.
In 1817 free settlers were frst encouraged to emigrate to the colony of Van Diemen’s Land. They brought with them substantial assets, as well as ideals of British agriculture, and the following years saw a massive transformation of the island’s landscape. By the 1820s many visitors assumed these new agriculturalists were aspiring to recreate Britain, and praised what they saw as the early stages of this. They dismissed the work of the former convicts on their much smaller grants, and ignored the thousands of years of land management conducted by the Tasmanian Aboriginal people. In fact, as much as the settlers sought to reshape the landscape, they themselves were reshaped by it. Their aspirations were only possible because of the work of their predecessors.
By placing land grants and sales data into an HGIS, this thesis reconstructs the sequence of European settlement in three regions of the island: New Norfolk, Bothwell and through the Midlands. These case studies are used to argue the existence of two primary European settlement patterns. The frst is riverine intensive, a pattern based on European and settler-colonial precedent. The domain of emancipist grantees, the name refects the signifcance of waterways in shaping the early colony. This pattern gave way to the open extensive in the early-1820s, as the colony’s economy shifted to fne wool exports and the settlers required larger acreages.

This thesis argues that both of these patterns were reliant on the Aboriginal mosaic patterns, as the settlers were drawn to areas kept clear with fre-stick farming. Settlers in the open extensive stage were particularly drawn to the large ‘plains’, and their land-use represented a drastic departure from accepted British methods. Nonetheless, the riverine intensive settlers also benefted from cleared lands. By combining the settlement pattern parameters with environmental data and settlement sequences, this thesis argues that it is possible to uncover details of the pre-European landscape that were not recorded before it was irrevocably altered by the arrival of large-scale pastoral pursuits.
Connecting land records to colonial survey charts also enables this thesis to measure the extent to which acreages were over- or under-measured. Using these fndings, it analyses allegations of corruptions that were frequently levelled against the colonial surveyors. Their work is critiqued within the context of surveyor work-load, changing settler and governmental priorities, and the rise of the Black War.





Abstract: Qualitative research in Tucson, Arizona reveals limitations to coalition building based on activists’ distinct positions and experiences, as well as their disparate understandings of the meaning of solidarity. Nonetheless, in the context of increasing militarization in the United States-Mexico borderlands/occupied O’odham territory, there is a history of coalition building to challenge the violence, at times halting the U.S. state’s plans for further militarization. Thus, it is timely to consider the (im)possibilities for solidarity amongst activist groups confronting militarization. To do so, I first examine the analysis and strategies put forward by immigrants’ rights groups, incorporating literature related to racial capitalism and imperialism. Next, I consider critiques and strategies presented by a Palestine/occupied O’odham land solidarity group, integrating scholarship on settler colonialism and indigenous resistance. Finally, I discuss challenges to and potentials for coalition building in the region based on listening to activists’ varying sentiments related to solidarity. I posit that a form of solidarity that requires finding a common struggle, despite the recognition of different experiences, may reify settler colonial ways of relating. I argue a decolonial framework may foster a form of solidarity that does not require a search for one form of oppression that is “common” to all, but rather embraces a form of solidarity that strives to listen to and learn from multiple subject positions. Additionally, a form of solidarity that embraces analyses born out of listening to various (hi)stories of those affected by the ongoing militarization in the region provides a nuanced understanding of the U.S.-Mexico borderlands/occupied O’odham territory. Such an understanding highlights the complexity and multiple technologies of power at play in the U.S. settler colonial capitalist nation, as well as various forms of ongoing resistance to oppression.