Struggle For Indigenous Rights Research Articles

A Critical Analyses on the History of Indigenous Resistance Movements: Lessons for Contemporary Struggles

The research paper, " A Critical Analyses on the History of Indigenous Resistance Movements: Lessons for Contemporary Struggles," comprehensively examines Indigenous resistance movements globally. The primary objectives of this study are to unearth historical narratives of Indigenous resistance, analyse their characteristics, and extract lessons applicable to contemporary struggles for Indigenous rights and social justice. The research employs a multi-faceted methodology to achieve these objectives, encompassing extensive literature review, archival research, and qualitative analysis of selected case studies. Ethical considerations in Indigenous research guide our data collection and analysis process. The key findings of this research illuminate a rich tapestry of Indigenous resistance movements spanning diverse regions and periods. These movements exhibit remarkable resilience, adaptability, and a commitment to cultural preservation in the face of colonial oppression. The study identifies commonalities in their strategies, including grassroots organising, cultural revitalisation, and alliances with sympathetic non-Indigenous groups. The implications of our research are profound. By revisiting the history of Indigenous resistance, we provide contemporary Indigenous communities and activists with valuable insights and inspiration. These historical lessons can inform present-day strategies, contribute to preserving Indigenous cultures, and bolster the pursuit of justice, equity, and self-determination for Indigenous peoples globally. In conclusion, this research underscores the enduring legacy of Indigenous resistance movements and their relevance in addressing the pressing challenges Indigenous communities face today. By mapping this history and distilling its lessons, we aim to promote a deeper understanding of Indigenous struggles and foster solidarity in pursuing a more just and inclusive world.

The Role of Customary Law in Natural Resource Management: A Comparative Study between Indonesia and Australia

Natural resource management is crucial for sustainable development, especially in regions abundant in biodiversity and natural assets. Nations worldwide face the challenge of managing their resources effectively while promoting economic growth, social justice, and environmental conservation. Customary law plays a significant role in resource governance, particularly in countries like Indonesia and Australia, where indigenous communities have deep-rooted connections to the land and its resources. This comparative study explores the role of customary law in natural resource management in Indonesia and Australia. Both countries possess diverse ecosystems and substantial indigenous populations, offering valuable insights into the interaction between customary and state legal systems in resource governance. In Indonesia, customary law, known as adat, influences resource management practices, albeit with variations in recognition and integration into formal legal frameworks. Conversely, in Australia, the colonization process has disrupted traditional governance structures, leading to ongoing struggles for indigenous rights and recognition. By examining case studies, legal frameworks, and policy initiatives in both countries, this study aims to identify challenges and opportunities for integrating customary law into broader governance frameworks and promoting more equitable and sustainable resource management practices. Additionally, this comparative analysis contributes to scholarly debates on the role of customary law in contemporary legal systems and its implications for environmental governance, indigenous rights, and social justice. Interdisciplinary perspectives from legal studies, anthropology, environmental science, and development studies offer valuable insights for policymakers, practitioners, and indigenous communities striving for more inclusive and effective resource management approaches.

WINIKO: Life of an Object, First Americans Museum, Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

<i>WINIKO: Life of an Object</i>, First Americans Museum, Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

Between Flood and Drought: Environmental Racism, Settler Waterscapes, and Indigenous Water Justice in South America’s Chaco

This article advances a novel approach to investigating geographies of settler colonialism and environmental justice through a critical physical geography (CPG) of water scarcity in the South American Chaco. Drawing from multimethod research conducted in collaboration with Enxet and Sanapaná communities in Paraguay, I evaluate how waterscape change produces social vulnerability with a focus on Indigenous access to safe drinking water. Stemming from a seemingly simple question—how have annual flood and drought events in the Chaco become malignant for Enxet and Sanapaná peoples—my analysis centers on current struggles for Indigenous rights amidst Paraguay’s booming ranching industry. I use an eclectic data set—from historical missionary accounts, seventy-two household questionnaires, mapping new waterscapes, and a political economy of cattle ranching—to show how settler waterscapes produce environmental racism by limiting Indigenous access to “good” water. I argue that the prevalence of water scarcity in Indigenous communities across the Bajo Chaco is not a natural result of biophysical geography but a socially produced outcome of how settler waterscapes rework hydrosocial relations along racial lines. CPG offers a way to bridge biophysical analysis with critical social theory to expand geographic understandings of settler colonialism and its effects on Indigenous environmental justice.

Afroperipheral indigeneity in Wayde Compton’s The Outer Harbour

Black Canadian writer Wayde Compton’s short story collection The Outer Harbour (2015) is located in the Afroperiphery of British Columbia which stands as a ‘contact zone’ that enables the alliances between Black and Indigenous peoples and also establishes a fecund ground of possibilities to emphasize the way in which cross-ethnic coalitions and representations reconsider imperial encounters previously ignored. The stories participate in the recent turn in Indigenous studies towards kinship and cross-ethnicity to map out the connected and shared itineraries of Black and Indigenous peoples and re-read Indigeneity in interaction. At the same time, the stories offer a fresh way to revisit Indigeneity in Canada through the collaborative lens and perspective of the Afroperipheral reality. In doing so, they contribute to calling attention to current cross-ethnic struggles for Indigenous rights and sovereignty in Canada that rely on kinship and ethnic alliances to keep on interrogating the shortcomings of the nation’s multiculturalism.

Discurso de Ailton Krenak, em 04/09/1987, na Assembleia Constituinte, Brasília, Brasil

Ailton Krenak é líder indígena, ambientalista e escritor. Nasceu em 1953 no estado de Minas Gerais, na região do Médio Rio Doce. Aos dezessete anos de idade, mudou-se com sua família para o estado do Paraná, onde se alfabetizou e se tornou produtor gráfico e jornalista. Na década de 1980, passou a dedicar-se exclusivamente ao movimento indígena. Em 1985, fundou a organização não governamental Núcleo de Cultura Indígena, que visa promover a cultura indígena. Foi durante a Assembleia Constituinte, em 1987, que Ailton protagonizou uma das cenas mais marcantes da mesma: em discurso na tribuna, vestido com um terno branco, pintou o rosto com tinta preta para protestar contra o que considerava um retrocesso na luta pelos direitos indígenas. Em 1988, participou da fundação da União dos Povos Indígenas, organização que busca representar os interesses indígenas no cenário nacional. Em 1989, participou da Aliança dos Povos da Floresta, movimento que busca o estabelecimento de reservas naturais na Amazônia onde fosse possível a subsistência econômica através da extração do látex da seringueira, bem como da coleta de outros produtos da floresta. Retornou a Minas Gerais, onde passou a se dedicar ao Núcleo de Cultura Indígena. Desde 1998, a organização realiza, na região da Serra do Cipó, em Minas Gerais, um festival idealizado por Ailton: o Festival de Dança e Cultura Indígena, promovendo a integração entre as diferentes populações indígenas.&#x0D; Link para o filme: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1PkFNpds7iPbqHHAWibvxtrZfjroFVsyY/view?usp=sharing

“Spirituality... we do not have such a thing”: Patrimonialization processes as minefields

Based on various situations and initiatives, which show the dynamics of the politics of recognition of indigenous patrimony, I identify several paradoxes. First, those arising from the languages enabled by the political struggle for indigenous rights. Then, the metacultural disputes which become apparent in and through that struggle. Finally, the tensions that result unavoidably from the attempt to equalize different economies of value and affection, and different regimes of historicity. On this basis, I propose a critical reading of the contemporary governmentality, by means of exploring invisibilized claims. I focus on the invisibilization of claims that put into question a given patrimonialization, or that aim at the patrimonialization of what is seen as a flaw of the hegemonic attempts of fixing accents about history, places of memory, or the environment. Once the unstable horizons of meaning linked to patrimonialization processes are identified, I explore some alternatives to walk through these “minefields”, inherited from previous wars and current skirmishes.

Letter from Barnstable Jail: William Apess and the “Memorial of the Mashpee Indians”

Letter from Barnstable Jail:William Apess and the “Memorial of the Mashpee Indians” Drew Lopenzina (bio) from mid-september to mid-october of 1833 the Pequot activist, writer, and Methodist minister William Apess served out a jail sentence of thirty days, having been found guilty of “inciting a riot” as a result of his attempts to advocate for the rights of the Mashpee Wampanoag at Mashpee on Cape Cod. Apess used his time in prison, among other things, to draft a detailed petition he would later submit to be read in the Boston Legislature. The petition, known as the “Memorial of the Marshpee Indians,” was immediately circulated throughout the “plantation,” where, in keeping with traditional processes, it was read to the assembled tribe, discussed, and amended where necessary, until a consensus was reached as to its overall language. The “Memorial” was signed or approved by well over half the residents of Mashpee and laid out the case for the Mashpee complaint, enumerating the unjust and opportunistic means by which the tribe had been oppressed over roughly a century of colonial oversight.1 As Apess observed, “There is not one enlightened and respectable Indian upon the plantation, that wants overseers or the present minister (Phineas Fish). We say that all our rulers … were placed here amongst us without our consent.” He additionally reprimands the august rulers of the state of Massachusetts that, “while ye are filled with the fat of our father’s land and enjoy your liberties without molestation will not this Honorable Body be as benevolent to us, poor Marshpee Indians, who are sighing and weeping under bondage, as ye are to the poor Cherokees?” The “Memorial” concluded with a general cry for release from bondage, exclaiming, “Oh, White man! white man! the blood of our fathers, spilt in the Revolutionary War, cries from the ground of our native soil, to break the chains of oppression, and let our children go free.”2 Apess’s Mashpee “Memorial,” although first published in The Liberator in 1834, has not, to my knowledge, been reprinted anywhere since. And yet it is a seminal contribution to Native American literature, written, as Apess would later attest to the Barton Commission in charge of investigating the affairs at Mashpee (and as recorded in the stenographer’s clipped transcription), “as voice of people.”3 Although Indigenous prison protest literature as [End Page 105] a genre can be said to already have had a complex history in the colonies up to this point, including documents produced by the eighteenth-century Pequot bond servant Katherine Garrett, the Mohegan/Wampanoag Moses Paul, and arguably even the Sauk leader Black Hawk, Apess’s petition stands as a centerpiece in the textualized struggle for Indigenous rights emerging from the heart of colonial containment. It highlights the manner in which Apess pioneered effective strategies of civil disobedience, including what I refer to hear as “negative work,” marshaling the press, public opinion, religious sentiment, and nonviolent resistance to advocate for Native sovereignty in the first half of the nineteenth century, and thereby preparing the way for future movements for people of color in the United States. Click for larger view View full resolution Figure 1. Masthead of The Liberator for February 1, 1834, in which the “Memorial of the Marshpee Indians” appears. Courtesy of the American Antiquarian Society. The term “negative work” is lifted from the French philosopher Michel Foucault, who, in his Archeology of Knowledge, employed this interesting phrase to elaborate on the rhetorical reconfiguration of the genealogical pathways of knowledge he deemed essential to exposing entrenched operations of power.4 The accrued knowledge of the Western world, in Foucault’s estimation, was founded not in incontrovertible fact nudging its way forward from the milky origins of time, so much as an agreed-on series of inscribed traditions that were largely determined and canonized by dominant forces in the present moment. Foucault seems to imply that to contest these constructed formations of historical tradition required the exertion of an opposite, or negative, force, one equal to the task of tracing the nearly imperceptible flow of power even from within its coercive containments. The relatively few published works of late eighteenth and early...

A performance da diversidade: o xamanismo como modo performático

Entendendo o xamanismo como um modo performático, este texto explora o seu papel entre os índios Siona da Colômbia como expressão de especificidade cultural perante a violência colonial e pós-colonial. A história oral reconta como o papel xamânico transformou-se no papel do poderoso cacique curaca, em resposta adaptativa às atividades missionárias. Após a quase extinção dos xamãs praticantes no século XX, suas performances surgiram nas duas últimas décadas como uma estratégia-chave na fomentação das especificidades étnicas e nas lutas contemporâneas pelos direitos indígenas. Tanto a constituição colombiana de 1991 quanto as redes urbanas neoxamânicas associam o xamanismo à preservação ecológica, à medicina tradicional, à identidade étnica e ao bem-estar da comunidade. Em Putumayo, região caracterizada como “zona de guerra”, as performances xamânicas são uma estratégia fundamental no campo complexo das negociações entre comunidades indígenas, organizações governamentais e não governamentais, indústrias extrativas e diversos grupos armados.Tradução: Elisa Nazarian

Popular Movements in Autocracies Religion, Repression, and Indigenous Collective Action in Mexico ‐ by Trejo, Guillermo

Trejo, Guillermo (2012) Popular Movements in Autocracies Religion, Repression, and Indigenous Collective Action in Mexico, Cambridge University Press ( New York, NY), xix + 307 pp. $99.00 hbk. Why, after centuries of segregation and marginalisation, have the indigenous peoples of Latin America only recently mobilised themselves to demand their rights? This question has attracted much scholarly attention over the past decades, the majority of works attributing the rise of strong and powerful indigenous movements to the adoption of economic neoliberal policies and the existence of an international regime for indigenous rights. As time has passed, however, these assumptions have proved to be rather inaccurate. While many indigenous groups have indeed actively mobilised themselves in defence of their political, economic, social and cultural rights, many others have remained passive and depoliticised. Some others have even supported non-democratic forms of government. The first of its kind, this book opens the black box of ‘ethnicity’ in order to better understand the causes and implications of indigenous mobilisation in Mexico. Methodologically speaking, the study is quite impressive. It is based on an extensive amount of original quantitative and qualitative data (including protest events, surveys, case studies and life stories) on cycles of indigenous mobilisation which occurred in 883 municipalities of Mexico during the period from 1975 to 2000. Moreover, the analysis relies on multiple research techniques and methods of analysis in order to validate its findings. With a degree of confidence, the study challenges many common assumptions in the literature. It demonstrates that neoliberalism was a necessary but insufficient factor behind the rise of indigenous movements in Mexico. In fact, in many municipalities of the country, neoliberalism was willingly accepted by various indigenous groups. Instead, the book argues, it was the approach taken by the Catholic Church, in the face of growing US Protestant missionary activity, that promoted the rise of strong and powerful indigenous movements; in order to retain members, progressive Catholic clergy organised dense and decentralised horizontal networks with large numbers of catechists leading communal Bible study groups and organising social and economic cooperatives. Not only were these networks more prone to establish alliances with parties challenging the rule of the Partido Revolucionario Institucional (PRI, Institutional Revolutionary Party), but, given their architecture, these networks were less susceptible to state co-optation and repression. In fact, as state repression increased, the members of these Catholic social networks engaged in radical and violent forms of protest. That is, progressive Catholicism provided the organisational infrastructure for the guerrilla warfare organised by the Zapatistas, and those very groups engaged in rebel activities were the most likely to adopt the discourse of ethnicity. Thus, the book also shows that the existence of an international regime for indigenous rights was a necessary but not in itself sufficient condition for ethnic rights-based mobilisation, at least not in Mexico; nor was a shared ethnicity the mobilising vehicle – instead, it was down to the action of an external agent: the Catholic Church. That said, dissident indigenous mobilisation was not the product of radical Catholicism, based on the theology of liberation, as might have been expected; instead, the struggle for indigenous rights was the result of the structural characteristics of the social networks organised by the Catholic Church. These social Catholic networks had important implications for democratisation in Mexico. Had it not been for those social networks, operating at the most basic community level in southern Mexico, the Zapatista rebellion would never have happened, and the reforms that led to the establishment of clean and fair elections in Mexico would probably have been delayed or simply not adopted. In this way, the book tries to reconcile the dynamics operating at different levels of analysis (community, municipal, state, national and international) for explaining the impact of indigenous mobilisation in the unravelling of the PRI rule and democratisation in Mexico. The book thus calls for us to bring back the role of religious associations and social network structures to the study of indigenous and other forms of grassroots mobilisation in Mexico and elsewhere in Latin America. While this book focuses on authoritarian Mexico, its approach can be employed to better understand indigenous mobilisation in countries in the region where electoral politics are already established, including Mexico. If anything, the argument of the book is very intricate and not parsimonious. Nonetheless, it is a must-read for all Latin Americanists.

A Dangerous Idea: The Alaska Native Brotherhood and the Struggle for Indigenous Rights

A Dangerous Idea: The Alaska Native Brotherhood and the Struggle for Indigenous Rights

Upriver: the turbulent life and times of an Amazonian people

In this remarkable story of one man's encounter with an indigenous people of Peru, Michael Brown guides his readers upriver into a contested zone of the Amazonian frontier, where more than 50,000 Awajun--renowned for their pugnacity and fierce independence--remain determined, against long odds, to live life on their own terms. When Brown took up residence with the Awajun in 1976, he knew little about them other than their ancestors' reputation as fearsome headhunters. The fledgling anthropologist was immediately impressed by his hosts' vivacity and resourcefulness. But eventually his investigations led him into darker corners of a world where murderous vendettas, fear of sorcery, and a shocking incidence of suicide were still common. Peru's Shining Path insurgency in the 1980s forced Brown to refocus his work elsewhere. Revisiting his field notes decades later, now with an older man's understanding of life's fragility, Brown saw a different story: a tribal society trying, and sometimes failing, to maintain order in the face of an expanding capitalist frontier. Curious about how the Awajun were faring, Brown returned to the site in 2012, where he found a people whose combative self-confidence had led them to the forefront of South America's struggle for indigenous rights. Written with insight, sensitivity, and humor, Upriver paints a vivid picture of a rapidly growing population that is refashioning its warrior tradition for the twenty-first century. Embracing literacy and digital technology, the Awajun are using hard-won political savvy to defend their rainforest home and right of self-determination.

Multiculturalism Reconsidered. Bilingual Education in Guatemala

Drozdowicz Jarema, Multiculturalism Reconsidered. Bilingual Education in Guatemala [Wielokulturowośc wymyślona na nowo. Edukacja dwujezyczna w Gwatemali]. Kultura – Spoleczenstwo – Edukacja nr 1(7), 2015, Poznan 2015, pp. 21–34, Adam Mickiewicz University Press. ISBN 978-83-232-2944-5. ISSN 2300-0422 The modern Maya movement is an example of a new sort of indigenous cultural activism. The long lasting struggle for indigenous rights had finally led to the renegotiation of the social, legal and political order in countries like Guatemala and Mexico. Today we witness a vibrant indigenous activism in many fields, like education for example. This paper deals with the issue of multicultural education in the mentioned countries, but also it presents critical problems of a wider process – i.e. regaining cultural freedom after 500 years of marginalization.

“Estas Son Mis Armas”: Lorna Dee Cervantes’s Poetics of Feminist Solidarity in the Era of Neoliberal Militarism

“Estas Son Mis Armas”:Lorna Dee Cervantes’s Poetics of Feminist Solidarity in the Era of Neoliberal Militarism Belinda Linn Rincón (bio) In January 2014, the Zapatista Army for National Liberation (EZLN), commonly referred to as the Zapatistas, marked the twentieth anniversary of their assault on military posts in several towns in Chiapas, Mexico. The group of indigenous insurgents turned the world’s attention to the political, economic, and ethnic crisis in Chiapas by launching their assault on the day Mexico was to implement neoliberal reform vis-à-vis the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA). While much of the commentary about the twentieth anniversary of the Zapatista uprising has focused on the failure of NAFTA, the anniversary also serves as a reason to revisit the Zapatistas’ solidarity politics. The Zapatistas inaugurated novel coalition-building practices that made their movement distinct from previous revolutions. For example, they capitalized on worldwide publicity via the Internet by hosting the first encuentro, or gathering, in 1996 that brought together thousands of allies to Chiapas to build activist networks and engage in conversations about human rights, neoliberalism, and globalization. Yet from the beginning, the Zapatistas identified paternalistic tendencies among some members of the international community. Describing what he called the “Cinderella syndrome,” Subcomandante Marcos, the Zapatistas’ spokesperson, recounted the kind of humanitarian aid sent by “good people who, sincerely, send us a pink stiletto heel, size 6 1/2, imported, without its mate … thinking that poor as we are, we’ll accept anything, charity and alms” (Marcos 2003). Unusable donated shoes were piled next to “useless computers, expired medicines, extravagant (for us) clothes” as the Zapatistas also faced the “sophisticated charity” of NGOs that imposed impractical or unnecessary aid projects. [End Page 55] Dissatisfied with imperial forms of charity-as-solidarity, the Zapatistas ceased holding encuentros in 2003 and instead took more direct control over the form and manner of national and international aid projects. In 2006, they also launched the Other Campaign (La otra campaña) in an effort to create a movement of what Thomas Olesen calls “global solidarity” in which the Zapatistas encourage activists and international organizations to focus their attention on resisting neoliberalism in their own contexts rather than presuming that the center of struggle is in Chiapas (2004, 260). This shift in solidarity practice is in part a response to the Cinderella syndrome, but more important, it also reflects the Zapatistas’ theorization that neoliberalism extends beyond national borders and thus must be challenged by diffuse yet allied movements. As one of the earliest poets to be inspired by the Zapatista movement, Chicana/Chumash feminist poet Lorna Dee Cervantes turned to poetry to commemorate the Zapatista struggle for indigenous rights. Originally published in 1998, her poem “Coffee” employs a multilayered poetics of solidarity that aligned with the Zapatista critique of neoliberalism. The same year that the Zapatistas began the Other Campaign, Cervantes republished “Coffee” in her widely acclaimed collection of poetry titled Drive: The First Quartet (2006). While the collection includes poems from 1980–2005, the republication of “Coffee” is particularly felicitous in that it actually anticipates and reflects the ways in which Zapatista solidarity practices have changed over the years. Through its direct address to Western, English-speaking readers and its focus on commodification and consumer privilege, the poem implicates a broad group of Zapatista allies and their role in the persistence of exploitative neoliberal practices. This direct address attempts to urge the formation of a solidarity based on critical self-reflection and personal accountability rather than empty altruism and paternalistic charity giving. The poem also engages a long tradition of Chicana transfronterista solidarity narratives—a genre concerned with transnational and often panethnic affiliations, sympathies, and ideological alliances. In “Coffee,” Cervantes models the strategies for building transfronterista alliances by respecting and recognizing cultural differences while simultaneously incorporating a poetics of solidarity that includes bearing witness, fostering historical consciousness, and highlighting modes of everyday resistance to neoliberal militarism, a process premised on the exploitation and alienation of women. However, as Chandra Mohanty (2003) has argued, cross-border orientations often expose [End Page 56] reductionist depictions of third world women, intentional and not. Even within the genre of transfronterista solidarity literature...

Changing discourses in Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander health research, 1914-2014.

Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people strongly assert that health research has contributed little to improving their health, in spite of its obvious potential. The health concerns of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people were largely ignored in early research published in the MJA, which reflected broader colonial history and racial discourses. This began to change with the demise of scientific racism, and changed policies and political campaigns for equal treatment of Indigenous people after the Second World War. In response to pressure from Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people and organisations, in parallel to broader political struggles for Indigenous rights since the 1970s, there have been significant and measurable changes to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander health research. Many of these changes have been about the ethics of health research. Increasingly, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander researchers, communities and organisations are now controlling and decolonising health research to better meet their needs, in collaboration with non-Indigenous researchers and research organisations.

Ornamentalism, Empire and Race: Indigenous Leaders and Honours in Australia and New Zealand

The imperial honours system, David Cannadine has argued, was a means for binding together ‘the British proconsular elite’ and ‘indigenous colonial elites’ throughout the settler colonies and dominions of the British Empire (Cannadine, David. Ornamentalism: How the British Saw Their Empire. London: Penguin, 2002). Yet in settler colonies like Australia and New Zealand indigenous populations were marginalised and often disregarded, and it was local white elites who became knights of St Michael and St George, the Bath and the British Empire. Focusing on Australia and New Zealand, this article explores the complex relationships Aboriginal and Māori leaders have had with honours during the twentieth century. Building upon Cannadine's analysis, I examine the ways in which indigenous leaders navigated the political complexities involved in the offer of an honour, and how their acceptance of awards was received by others, shedding light on how honours systems intersected with post-war struggles for indigenous rights in the former dominions.

Land, Listening and Voice: Investigating Community and Media Representations of the Queensland Struggle for Land Rights and Equality

For the most part, the story of the Australian Indigenous land rights struggle has been told by the Australian media – media that have attracted consistent criticism for their portrayal of Indigenous Australians. On the other hand, Australia boasts a vibrant and accomplished Indigenous media sector that has also told the land rights story from a different perspective, albeit to a much smaller audience. The authors are currently a part of a research team seeking to provide a critical analysis of historical and contemporary representations of the land rights movement and the broader struggle for indigenous rights and equality in Queensland. The project seeks to challenge the prevailing dialogue by focusing on the perspectives of people who have been (and still are) involved in the land rights movement. Prioritising and exploring such alternative perspectives will not only present the opportunity to reconsider the role of media representations, but will also enable an Indigenous ‘take’ on them to emerge. This article presents our approach and rationale, discussing the methodological possibilities and challenges of research with Indigenous communities, which ultimately seeks to redress media imbalance and injustice by a retelling that elevates Indigenous voices, stories and pictures.

Powering up the people? The politics of indigenous rights implementation: International Labour Organisation Convention 169 and hydroelectric power in Nepal

The article looks at the role of International Labour Organisation Convention 169 (ILO 169) in struggles for indigenous rights. Nepal is a particularly apposite example, where ILO 169 is currently being invoked and contested in a process of political and state restructuring. The article focuses upon one sector, namely, water resources pertaining to hydroelectric power (HEP) development, with data based upon interviews with key stakeholders at both capital and district and local level, and also visits to three HEP project sites. Two main lessons are imparted primarily about rights-based approaches in general and indigenous rights more specifically. First, while ILO standards can be used to identify a country-level political and institutional vacuum and to promote procedural and substantive standards, implementation is hostage to entrenched political patronage and political culture. Second, rights-based approaches have their own effects particularly when claims are interpreted as absolute group rights, especially in highly diverse societies. An overall dilemma remains for Nepal: while significant political gains have emerged from indigenous rights movement mobilisation there is still a striking absence of (new) constitutional provisions, concrete institutional mechanisms, policy guidelines and delivery of tangible local benefits and with indications of high caste and other groups backlash.

Winning Title to Land but Not to Its Past: The Toledo Maya and Sites of pre-Hispanic Heritage

AbstractThe struggle for indigenous rights to pre-Hispanic cultural heritage parallels the struggle for indigenous land rights in Belize. By Belizean law, material objects and sites of activity older than 100 years in age are the property of the state. Similarly, land inhabited by indigenous communities in southern Belize is held in trust by the government. In 2007 the community of Santa Cruz in southern Belize won customary land tenure over their lands for the first time from the Belizean government. This change in land ownership presents new challenges to the definition of ownership of ancient places in Maya territory. In particular, the transfer of land rights to the community has potential implications for the ownership and management of the local pre-Hispanic site of Uxbenká that may ultimately serve as a paradigm for the future relationship between Maya peoples and ancestral remains throughout the nation.

The Struggle for Indigenous Rights in Latin America

The Struggle for Indigenous Rights in Latin America