Source:
https://doi.org/10.1080/14649357.2017.1380961
in Planning Theory & Practice, 2017Vol. 18, no. 4, 639–666
By Libby Porter
Notes on Contributor: Libby Porter is Associate Professor in planning and urban geography, based at the Centre for Urban Research, RMIT University where she is Vice Chancellor’s Principal Research Fellow. Her research work is focused on dispossession and displacement and most recently on the recognition of Indigenous rights and title in planning. Her most recent books are Planning for Co-Existence (with Barry, Routledge 2016), and Planning in Indigenous Australia (with Jackson and Johnson, Routledge 2018). Libby co-founded Planners Network UK, a progressive voice for radical planning in northern Europe and is an active member of Planners Network (North America) and the International Network of Urban Research and Action. Email: libby.porter@rmit.edu.au
References: Jojola, T. (2008). Indigenous planning: An emerging context. Canadian Journal of Urban Research,17, 37–47.Walker, R., Jojola, T., & Natcher, D. (2013). Reclaiming indigenous planning. Montreal: McGill-Queen University Press.
Centre for Urban research, RMIT, Melbourne, Australia
Introduction
There is growing momentum in planning research, education and practice as to the commitment these fields must make to a more just and respectful relationship with Indigenous peoples. One dimension of this is the collective efforts towards defining and understanding the concepts and practices of Indigenous planning (see for example Jojola, 2008; and contributions to Walker, Jojola, & Natcher, 2013), recognising distinctive practices of planning that derive from an “indigenous world-view, which not only serves to unite [Indigenous planning] philosophically, but also to distinguish it from neighbouring non-land based communities” (Jojola, 2008, p. 42).There is relatively little opportunity, however, to actually share what it means to try and practice the principles of Indigenous planning, and for non-Indigenous planning to practice making space for Indigenous planning, on the terms of sovereign first peoples. At the Association of Collegiate Schools of Planning Conference in 2016, a group of researchers and practitioners got together to discuss what it means to practice differently in light of the principles and ethics of Indigenous planning. Our discus-sion, engaging both Indigenous and non-Indigenous scholars and practitioners, helped clarify some of the dimensions and dilemmas with which the field of planning might need to engage to enable a new relationship to be built with Indigenous planning.In this Interface, we bring together that discussion to think more deeply about what it means to practice the principles of Indigenous planning and the decolonising agenda it suggests. Contributions from both Indigenous and non-Indigenous people follow, bringing perspectives principally from the settler-colonial states of Aotearoa-New Zealand, Australia, Canada and the USA. The contributions cover the ethics, pedagogy and principles of Indigenous planning, the links to health, community development, housing and design, and the theoretical and pedagogical implications of Indigenous planning for mainstream Western planning.
A Revolutionary Pedagogy of/for Indigenous PlanningHirini MatungaDepartment of environmental Management, Faculty of environment, Society and Design, lincoln University, canterbury, aotearoa, new ZealandIn his seminal treatise on the development of critical consciousness through education published in 1970, Brazilian educationist, Paulo Freire’s radical aphorism name the word, name the world’, (my paraphrase) rang out like a clarion call across the indigenous world and other communities of the oppressed, marginalised and dispossessed. A deeply intellectual, highly political, disarmingly peaceful, yet revolutionary
call to arms’, it espoused self-reflection, self-awareness, development of a critical consciousness coupled with a revolutionary pedagogy focussed on naming’, and then transformative action to reconfigure and
name’, or rather, rename’ the world. In what amounted to a metaphoric scud missile to the economic, private property, resource owning, political, colonial, racial elite (singular and aggregate, because it is difficult to disaggregate), Freire was exiled for this kind of revolutionary talk. He ‘called out’ power for what it was, and had the audacity
to arm’ the dispossessed and oppressed with the weapons of/for their own, albeit peaceful’ liberation. Freire also went on to challenge what he termed the unauthentic word, “one which is unable to transform reality” remonstrating that “when a word is deprived of its dimension of action, reflection also suffers as well: and the word is changed into idle chatter, into verbalism into an alienated, alienating blah” (Freire, 1970, p. 47). In other words all talk no action, theory without its praxis dimension is just that –
idle chatter’.In my view these are’ the challenges confronting planning education and planning practice today. Has planning just become idle chatter? An alienated, alienating blah, that, rooted
deep down’ in its colonial past, and present – actually knows the problem, but in a form of soporific amnesia has airbrushed it out of existence, because confronting it requires facing up to its own history, its own complicity with the colonial project, and its ongoing marginalisation and dispossession of the very communities it actually needs to engage. Has planning become an unauthentic word’ that is unable to transform reality? Is it even trying to
call out’ power for what it is? Or has it become so deprived of its dimension of justice and emancipatory action that it has become a functionary of the economic, political and often racial elite, in what remains an obstinately colonial, state-based, settler dominant, market-driven planning system?It is in that vein that I approach the area of activity now known as indigenous planning. Indigenous planning’ is an attempt to
name the word, name the world’, to carve out a theoretical and practice space for indigenous people and communities to do their’ planning
in’ planning, to provide a framework for indigenous communities to transform their reality’, or as Freire would put it
to name planning’ and therefore `name their world’.
Let me perhaps state my own humble aphorism –no one owns planning’. No one owns that word. It’s just a word – and an English language descriptor for a universal human activity about the future. In Maori we call it whakatau kaupapa. But, what a word! It has been used to dominate, control, remove and herd indigenous communities onto reserves and into enclaves, to erase and eradicate their memory and materiality, even humanity. It has also been used to
spatialise oppression’ and violently zone it permanently onto contested landscapes. That said, to be human is to plan and to plan is to be human, therefore to deny’ the space for indigenous communities to do their planning, let alone exist as objects worthy of planning – is itself a form of institutionalised dehumanisation. Hence, as I suggest, the need for a revolutionary pedagogy in/for planning.One often hears the phrase
unsettling planning theory’. However, before I even get past the, okay whose planning theory are we talking about?’, it is important to note that indigenous peoples have always been on the outside of
settler/colonial/Western/state-based planning’, looking in. The unsettled state has become the norm as indigenous communities internally mediate tradition and modernity, while externally navigating the twin orbits of indigeneity and colonialism. In fact, being unsettled’ remains a natural/unnatural state for indigenous communities. So, to the central question: has plan-ning theory even attempted to theorise the oppression of indigenous communities, let alone linked it to a transformative planning praxis and action? I suspect the likely response is for the most part ‘no’. Therefore, if the theories do not fit, and if they cannot or worse still will not, comprehend indigenous experience – the only option left is to ditch them.It is into this void in planning theory that indigenous planning has almost by default implanted itself – and in so doing created its own space to move, to name itself and its world. But, that is only the beginning.
Naming’ indigenous planning has also become a vehicle by which indigenous peoples can write themselves back into planning history, planning theory and planning practice, from which generally they have been excluded – almost as entities lacking any agency – let alone the ability to plan. Indigenous planning is also a prism through which the rhetoric of planning as a human universal’ can be refracted to indigenous communities, their experience, past, present and indeed future. Ironically, indigenous planning actually
unsettles’ Western’ planning theory and in particular its globalising/totalising tendencies, exposing them as a bit more
Anglo/Euro’ culturally specific and laden than they might otherwise care to admit. Beyond all the rhetoric, indigenous planning provides an intellectual and political space for indigenous peoples to define themselves, to spatialise indigeneity and, most importantly, mark out their future.So, what is it?First of all it is planning by/with (not for) indigenous peoples, using (or at least fully cognisant of ) their processes to achieve their defined outcomes.Clearly it is not just about process for the sake of process, but rather process that drives towards a set of desired outcomes. While specific context (i.e. spatial, cultural, social, economic, environment, politics, for example) might determine as a specific endpoint, the actual nature of the process and outcome, the ability to nuance process and outcome to specific contexts, and then weight various desired outcomes against each other – is critical.On that basis, Indigenous planning as an outcome should mediate to a decision but across the following dimensions.
If we turn to the notion of Indigenous planning as a process, the critical factors that then come into play when making a decision can be articulated through the people–place–knowledge–values loop.
Therefore, on that basis I would broadly define Indigenous planning as:‘Indigenous people making decisions about their place (whether in the built or natural environment) using their knowledge (and other knowledges), values and principles to define and progress their present and future social, cultural, environmental and economic aspirations’.However, another way to more succinctly define indigenous planning, given the critical connections of people, place and ancestors could be:‘Indigenous peoples spatialising their aspirations, spatialising their identity, spatialising their indigeneity’.Clearly the challenge for planning as a universal’, is to create a theory–praxis space within the pantheon of planning(s) for indigenous planning as a process and outcome – to exist, and to facilitate a transformative planning pedagogy and practice.However, Indigenous planning must in the first instance, ask the fundamental question
in context’.