Libby Portercentre for Urban research, rMiT, Melbourne, australia
Planning Theory & PracTice, 2017Vol. 18, no. 4, 639–666https://doi.org/10.1080/14649357.2017.1380961
Source: https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/epdf/10.1080/14649357.2017.1380961?needAccess=true
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.
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
A Revolutionary Pedagogy of/for Indigenous Planning
by Hirini Matunga, Department of Environmental Management, Faculty of environment, Society and Design, Lincoln University, Canterbury, Aotearoa, New Zealand
In 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 …’, 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 … talk. He ‘called out’ power for what it was, and had the audacity to [empower]’ the dispossessed and oppressed with the [tools] of/for their own, albeit peaceful’ liberation. Freire also went on to challenge what he termed the inauthentic 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 inauthentic 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’.
Current estimates put the numbers of indigenous peoples at approximately 350 million world-wide across 5,000 different groups in over 70 countries. Notwithstanding the diversity of experience across these communities, they remain persistently among the most marginalised and disadvantaged groups in the world.
Across a range of socio-economic indices, poverty and `under’ (or rather arrested) development is a common denominator. While there is considerable variation, depending on whether the com-munity is located in the so called ‘rich global north’, or ‘poor Third World global south’, severe spatial disadvantages, brought about by rapid urbanisation and rural regional isolation, remain at the heart of often extreme, intractable social and cultural dislocation. This is the context that `settler’, state-based, Western planning must confront.
In the title to this Interface piece I quite deliberately advocated for necessary revolutionary pedagogy in/for planning education and practice, that not only poses these questions, but equips itself with the theory–praxis armoury to facilitate transformative action.
In the 1970s and 1980s the concept of so-called radical planning challenged elitism, centralisation, colonialism, etc. in planning, and for this it needs to be commended. However, an inability to fully comprehend historic, systemic, institutionalised oppression of indigenous communities that are unique in global human history means planning remains ill-equipped to follow through to a transformative practice that is in any way coherent or significant let alone comprehensive. Hence the need for a `rev-olutionary pedagogy’ for planning education and practice that moves beyond the radical to embrace revolutionary change – in planning.
Meanwhile the world moves on. For instance, after more than 20 years of discussion and consultation, the United Nations in 2007 ratified the Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples; 144 nations voted in favour, with 4 against, namely Australia, Canada, New Zealand and the USA. The Declaration recognised a bundle of rights including the right of indigenous peoples to self-determination, to exist as distinct peoples and communities, to own, use and control land and resources, to maintain and develop institutions and to protect intellectual and cultural property. In other words, the domain of planning. The nations who originally objected eventually did go on to ratify it – Australia in 2009, New Zealand and the USA in 2010 and Canada in 2016.
However, to again quote Freire:
Within the word we find two dimensions, reflection and action … there is no true word that is not at the same time a praxis. Thus to speak a true word is to transform the world … To exist humanly is to name the world – to change it. (p. 47)
The critical point for planning is that the `problem definition’ phase is well gone. What is now over-due is a process of reconciliation, resolution and partnership, leading to collaborative planning with indigenous communities, and then action. If planning is the true word it often purports to be, it needs to move beyond reflection and into action. Hence the need for a revolutionary pedagogy.
In this context it requires a commitment to a set of principles and practices, including:
- Reflection and reconciliation, leading to true dialogue with indigenous communities. The colo-nial project has left a legacy of material and ideological marginalisation of indigenous peoples, unmatched in `recent’ human history. The very existence of many nation states is built on indigenous marginalisation. And, state-based planning has provided the conceptual and practical apparatus for institutionalising marginalisation. Therefore, knowing and responding to this history is critical.
- Acknowledging that indigenous planning, carried out by indigenous communities exists `beyond’ mainstream state-based planning, as a legitimate planning in its own right. Through the colo-nial project and against all odds, indigenous communities have survived, retained agency and a remarkable clarity of vision around their present(s) and future(s), based on the land, environment, their place and collective agency. Engaging with `their’ planning and articulation of their future(s) is also critical.• Creating a theory-praxis and political/institutional `third’ space for indigenous planning `to con-nect’ with state-based planning, and through facilitated partnerships, collaboration, `institutional/statutory connectors between the two planning systems’ and collective action to indeed ‘name and change the world’, are also essential.
In this discourse there are three sites of/for planning, namely indigeneity, the settler colonial state, and the `third space’ hybrid where the coloniser and colonised, oppressed and oppressor can come together to dialogue reconciliation, emancipation, collaboration and collective action for the future. Planning across all three sites is critical to that endeavour.
Notes on Contributor
Hirini Matunga is Professor of Māori and Indigenous Development at Lincoln University. He specialises in Māori and Indigenous approaches to planning. He was formerly the Director of the Centre for Maori and Indigenous Planning and Development at Lincoln University and has worked in both academia and practice. He has been actively engaged in Maori planning, resource and environmental management, and iwi management issues for over 30 years either as a professional planner or academic. In 2015 he was presented with the New Zealand Planning Institute – Papa Pounamu Award for Outstanding Service to Maori Environmental Planning and Resource Management, by the Minister for Maori Development. He is of Ngai Tahu descent and his hapu are Ngai Te Ruahikihiki, Ngai Tuahuriri, Ngati Huirapa. Email: Hirini.Matunga@lincoln.ac.nzReferenceFreire, P. (1970). Pedagogy of the oppressed. New York, NY: Herder and Herder.Settler-Indigenous Relationships as Liminal Spaces in Planning Education and PracticeLeela ViswanathanDepartment of geography and Planning, School of Urban and regional Planning, Queen’s University, Kingston, ontario, canadaLike many planning scholars and practitioners, I have developed a commitment to ‘unsettling’ knowl-edge, perceptions and attitudes among planners and planning educators who continue to catego-rize Indigenous peoples and racialized communities as marginal. As members of universities and