This essay is published in Enter Text and Left Curve
IFTEKHAR SAYEED
Freedom and Freedom
1. Individual and Collective Freedom
December 6, 1990. The General announced his
resignation. The student revolt had finally blossomed into freedom. They rejoiced in their liberty.
Do these words mean anything in Asia—or are
they “only words”?
Before
answering the question, let us note that the words do mean something: they
connote collective freedom. When
Rabindranath Tagore, in his celebrated Gitanjali
cycle of poems, intoned
Where the mind is without fear
and the head is held high; …
Into that heaven of freedom,
my Father, let my country awake[1]
he had
collective freedom in mind. India’s
colonial experience would explain the quest for collective freedom.
The Quiet American, the novel by Graham
Greene, explores the consequences of trying to impose an alien view on another
culture. A bizarre conversation on political philosophy takes place between
Thomas Fowler, the narrator, and Arden Pyle, an undercover OSS agent, in
a tower amidst paddy fields, manned by two colonial, Vietnamese soldiers:
I said to Pyle, “Do you think they
know they are fighting for Democracy?”…
“And as for liberty, I don’t know what it means. Ask
them.” I called across the floor in French to them. “La liberté—qu’est ce que c’est la liberté?” They sucked in the rice
and stared back and said nothing.[2]
And yet the Viet Minh were fighting for freedom. Therefore, freedom does have meaning in Asia. The Vietnam War, as one historian
observes, was “fought to achieve a united, independent country.”[3]
Freedom in Asia and Africa, thanks to colonial experience,
means collective freedom: “Pyle said, ‘Do you want everybody to be made
in the same mould? ... You stand for the importance of the individual as much
as I do….’”[4]
However, does freedom mean individual
freedom as well? Consider the sentiments expressed in these words (more or
less the same sentiments expressed by Arden Pyle in the preceding paragraph):
The freedom which we enjoy in our
government extends also to our ordinary life. There, far from exercising a
jealous surveillance over each other, we do not feel called upon to be angry
with our neighbour for doing what he likes, or even to indulge in those
injurious looks which cannot fail to be offensive, although they inflict no
positive penalty.[5]
Is there any counterpart here to
the privacy that was the boast equally of Pericles and of Nicias:[6]
“he reminded them of their country, the freest of the free, and of the
unfettered discretion allowed in it to all to live as they pleased?”
To the Athenian
citizen, this was the negative side of freedom; the positive side was equally
valuable, the other side of the same coin. As Aristotle observes, “He who has
the power to take part in the deliberative or judicial administration of any
state is said by us to be a citizen of that state.”[7] Again:
One principle of liberty is
for all to rule and be ruled in turn, and indeed democratic justice is the
application of numerical not proportionate equality;… This, then, is one note
of liberty which all democrats affirm to be the principle of their state.
Another is that a man should live as he likes. This, they say, is the mark of
liberty, since, on the other hand, not to live as a man likes is the mark of a
slave.[8]
Does freedom
in the sense of individual freedom have any meaning here—that is, is the idea of freedom prevalent in Asia, or only its outward form: is
freedom just a word? To answer our question we must trace the career of another
word: slavery.
2. Slavery and Literature
In Byron’s Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage (1812 – 1818), the words free and freedom occur forty-eight times and slave twenty-four times.
When Byron
was writing, Britain was busily
importing more cotton than she needed. Lancashire cotton
mills were fed the negro-grown crop for export to Europe. This
export made Britain great in
the nineteenth century: until 1860, she took at least half the cotton crop of America. Lancashire,
therefore, actively helped to settle the American southwest with slave
plantations.[9] A
civilisation solidly based on slavery was in the making.
Fit retribution! Gaul may
champ the bit,
And foam in fetters, but is
Earth more free?
Did nations combat to make one
submit;
Or league to teach all kings true sovereignty?
What! shall reviving thraldom
again be
The patched-up idol of
enlightened days?
Shall we, who struck the Lion
down, shall we
Pay the Wolf homage?
proffering lowly gaze
And servile knees to
thrones? No; prove before ye praise!
If not, o’er one fall’n despot
boast no more!
In vain fair cheeks were furrowed
with hot tears
For Europe’s
flowers long rooted up before
The trampler of her vineyards;
in vain years
Of death, depopulation,
bondage, fears,
Have all been borne, and broken by the accord
Of roused-up millions: all
that most endears
Glory, is when the myrtle
wreathes a sword
Such as Harmodius drew on Athens’
tyrant lord.[10]
These stanzas were written over “The grave of France,
the deadly Waterloo!” For Byron,
the defeat of Napoleon had been futile—for the Bourbons were back and monarchy
triumphant in Europe (of course, he laments the fact
that Napoleon himself had been crowned). “Thralldom” had been revived. Clearly,
the kind of slavery he had in mind was different from the kind being practised
on American plantations.
In
his use of the words freedom and slavery, Byron was harking back to
ancient Greece. Here’s a
line from Aeschylus’ The Persians:
Subject they are not unto any man:
They say “slave” sorts not
with “Athenian.”[11]
The
Persians, according to Aeschylus, were slaves because they had a king. To
oriental ears, this equation must sound outré.
But let us see things from the Greek point of view. In Periclean Athens, the
ratio of slaves to free men was 3:2.[12]
Athenian democracy rested solidly on slavery.
For
Aristotle, too, master, magistrate and king were identical: “...some are of the
opinion that the rule of a master is a science, and that the management of a
household, and the mastership of slaves, and the political and royal rule, as I
was saying at the outset, are all the same.”[13] In
this, he is merely echoing Plato:
“Well,
then, there are to be found in other cities rulers and the people as in our
city, are there not?”
“There are.”
“Will not all these address one
another as fellow citizens?”
“Of course.”
“But in addition to citizens,
what do the people in other states call their rulers?”
“In most cities, masters, in
democratic cities, just this—rulers.”
“But what of the people in our
city. In addition to citizens, what do they call their rulers?”
“Saviours and helpers, he said.”
“And what term do these apply to
the people?”
“Payers of their wage and
supporters.”
“And how do the rulers in other
states denominate the populace?”
“Slaves, he said.”[14]
Again, in the Statesman we have:
STRANGER: The slavemaster and
the master of a household are identical.
YOUNG SOCRATES: Yes.
STRANGER: Furthermore, is there
much difference between a large household organisation and a small-sized city,
so far as the exercise of the authority over it is concerned?
YOUNG SOCRATES: None.[15]
For Plato, then, king = master,
subject = slave. In this, Plato was merely thinking like a typical Athenian.
And didn’t
John Locke indite these words in the Fundamental Constitution of Carolina: “every
free man of Carolina shall have
absolute power and authority over Negro slaves”?[16]
And wasn’t he a shareholder in the slave-trading Royal African Company?[17]
His defence of slavery is most
illuminating. He observes:
freedom of men under
government is, to have a standing rule to live by, common to every one of that
society, and made by the legislative power erected in it; a liberty to follow
my own will in all things, where the rule prescribes not; and not to be subject
to the inconstant, uncertain, unknown, arbitrary will of another man: as
freedom of nature is, to be under no other restraint but the law of nature.[18]
Notice the
similarity with Aristotle’s conception of liberty above: to rule and to be
ruled in turn and to follow one’s inclinations in accordance with such rule.
Clearly, this state of affairs implies its negative, as in Aristotle’s case:
the loss of liberty. And the loss is justified as a state of war. Black slaves
are held to be justifiably “subject to the inconstant, uncertain, unknown,
arbitrary will of another man” because they
have abandoned the state of nature for a state of war.
This is the perfect condition
of slavery, which is nothing else, but the state of war continued, between a
lawful conqueror and a captive: for, if once compact enter between them, and
make an agreement for a limited power on the one side, and obedience on the
other, the state of war and slavery ceases, as long as the compact endures...[19]
What compact
the hapless negro slave, kidnapped or bought on some African coast, had entered
into with her white masters remains obscure; how she had violated it still more
so: this piece of historic fiction proved very profitable, not only for Locke
personally, but for Britain as a whole, as we have seen. “Europe’s most free country... was also the biggest slaving nation....”[20]
But the
most poetic contradiction must surely be that of James Thomson. In the Seasons (1726), he describes the shark
that follows a slave ship:
Lured by the scent
Of steaming crowds, of rank disease, and death,
Behold! He, rushing, cuts the briny flood,
Swift as the gale can bear the ship along;
And from the partners of that cruel trade,
Which spoils unhappy Guinea of her sons,
Demands his share of prey—demands themselves![21]
Yet he also penned that famous
piece of jingoism, Rule Britannia (1740):
The nations, not so blest as thee,
Must, in their turns, to tyrants fall:
While thou shalt flourish great and free,
The dread and envy of them all.
“Rule, Britannia, rule the waves;
Britons never will be slaves.”[22]
Other
countries would be ruled by kings—dreadful fate!—but Britain
would enjoy Lockean liberty, and enslave black people, while herself remaining
free.
3. The Iberian Distinction
In 1856, George M. Stroud, an
abolitionist, provided the following legal enchiridion of the master-slave
relationship:[23]
1. The master may determine the
kind and degree, and time of labour to which the slave may be subjected.
2. The master may supply the
slave with such food and clothing only, both as to quantity and quality, as he
may think proper or find convenient.
3. The master may, at his
discretion, inflict any punishment on the person of his slave.
4. All the power of the master
over his slave may be exercised not only by himself in person, but by anyone
whom he may depute as his agent.
5. Slaves have no legal rights
of property in things, real or personal; but whatever they may acquire belongs,
in point of law, to their masters.
6. The slave, being a personal chattel, is at all times liable
to be sold absolutely, or mortgaged or leased, at the will of his master.
7. He may also be sold by
process of law for the satisfaction of the debts of a living, or the debts and
bequests of a deceased master, at the suit of creditors or legatees.
8. A slave cannot be a party
before a judicial tribunal, in any species of actions against his master, no
matter how atrocious may have been the injury received from him.
9. Slaves cannot redeem
themselves, nor obtain a change of masters, though cruel treatment may have
rendered such change necessary for their personal safety.
10. Slaves being objects of property, if injured by third persons,
their owners may bring suit, and recover damages for the injury.
11. Slaves can make no contract.
12. Slavery is hereditary and
perpetual.
Contrast the above with the laws
and customs relating to domestic slavery which had grown up in Portugal and
Spain—they were codified as early as 1263-5 in Las Siete Partidas del Roy Alfonso.
The slave might marry a free person if the slave
status was known to the other party. Slaves could marry against the will of
their masters if they continued serving him as before. Once married, they could
not be sold apart, except under conditions permitting them to live as man and
wife. If the slave married a free person with the knowledge of his master, and
the master did not announce the fact of the existing slave status, then the
slave by that mere fact became free. If
married slaves owned by separate masters could not live together because of
distance, the church should persuade one or the other to sell his slave. If
neither of the masters could be persuaded, the church was to buy one of them so
that the married slaves could live together. The children followed the status
of their mother, and the child of a free mother remained free even if she later
became a slave. In spite of his full powers over his slave, the master might
neither kill him nor injure him unless authorised by the judge, nor abuse him
against reason or nature, nor starve him to death. But if the master did any of
these things, the slave could complain to the judge, and if the complaint were
verified, the judge must sell him, giving the price to the owner, and the slave
might never be returned to the original owner.[24]
The Las Siete Partidas del Roy Alfonso, although regulating only domestic
slavery, was transferred to the wider ambit of the colony. The code clearly
reflects a background where the slave was not a thing—returns from which had to be maximised—but an unfree person. Slave families and slave
marriages were protected by law to some extent, and the laws relating to
slavery were upheld by the church, to a degree. Contrast Justice Taney’s famous
observation (March 6, 1857) that Negroes had “no rights which any white man was
bound to respect,”[25]
with the fact that the Iberian slave had access to the courts. The code defined
conditions for manumission, which was frequent. The Iberian slave could earn,
save and purchase his freedom. Children of slave women and white fathers were
often freed; even, on occasions, inducted into the white family. Slaves who
were redundant on their masters’ estates could go into town and earn a living,
part of which had to be remitted to their owners, but the remainder often
sufficed to purchase their freedom. The spectacle of a free Negro was no
novelty when legal abolition took place in 1888.
Thus, a strong, centralised state prevented a
slave from slipping into mere thinghood. Correspondingly, the Iberian world—the peninsula and its colonies—developed a marked tolerance, rather, a
passion, for strong, centralised rule. The caudillo
is an ancient institution, a beloved father figure.
4. Slavery in the East
The Chambers Twenty-first Century Dictionary
gives the historical meaning of “slave” as “someone owned by and acting as
servant to another, with no personal freedom.”[26]
Presumably, the description is meant to fit the Sumerian, the Greek, the Roman,
the Jewish, the American and the Spanish slave. In fact, there is no word for
slave in the Sumerian or the Hebrew languages. The Greek word for slave was doulos—the word erected a clear
linguistic boundary between slaves and free men. No such boundary existed in
the East. In the Sumerian cuneiform sign for slave, the word means “a man from
the mountains,” that is, a captive from an alien land. This vagueness infects
the Egyptian word b’k. The Hebrew
word ebed denotes anyone from “slave,”
“servant of the lord” in the phrase ebed
Jahwe to ebed al malek, to “the
servant of the king.”[27]
Even slaves—the word mamluk meant a male of slave origins—had been rulers in the Muslim world when they had had sufficient
military power to do so.[28]
Qutb-ud-Din Aybak had been a slave ruler; the Delhi Dynasty had been a dynasty
of slaves.[29]
How different from Greek and Roman Republican slavery, where a slave was
regarded as hardly human. (Incredibly enough, Diodotus, a royal slave in the
Seleucid household, seized power in the kingdom of Syria and was accepted—albeit temporarily—as a ruler;[30]
the episode highlights the level of tolerance under Hellenistic absolutism,
discussed below.)
5. Freedom and Slavery
What, then, of the antonym of slavery—freedom? The meaning of this
word too must be inextricably connected to the historical experience of the
people. Thus, freedom and democracy have tended to mean little in the Iberian
world—Spain and Portugal were both
dictatorships until the other day, and Latin America, as noted, has the
perpetual caudillo—whereas some form
of participatory government and the associated idea of liberty persisted
throughout Greek, Republican Roman and Western European history as the reflex
of slavery and exclusion.
Centralised,
absolutist states are more “free” than democratic, decentralised polities. Where
you cannot lose your freedom, the concept cannot arise. And a strong, “despotic”
state precludes slavery for it would entail loyalty of slaves to private
persons, rather than, as observed, to the “despot.”
Freedom, in Greece
and in subsequent European history, always required its opposite—slavery. The antithesis of freedom and
slavery and the identity of master and sovereign, on the one hand, and subject
and slave, on the other, are inevitable in a democracy, republic or any system
of representative government.
The very meaning of freedom
derived from its antithesis—slavery.
In Asia, large-scale chattel slavery had never been
practiced.[31] Egypt,
as we have seen, had no concept of slavery, and slaves, in any recognisable
form, never appeared until the Egyptian Empire—yet even then were only a minuscule part of the labour force;[32]
household slaves were easily assimilated.[33]
In China,
slaves comprised only 1% of the total population and had a very different status
from that of Roman slaves.[34]
The corresponding ratio for Attica around 431 BC is
between 25-33%.[35]
However, in Greece,
too, Hellenistic despotism entailed the disappearance of slavery[36]—and its re-emergence with the Roman
Republic and, again, its disappearance
with the Empire.[37] Freedom has no meaning unless the
possibility of losing it is real.
The idea of
freedom had been born, then, of the experience of slavery. An idea, however,
travels, without the baggage of attendant experience. In the process it becomes
a word, disconnected, dislocated. The connotation changes; and there emerged
two connotations, a Western and an Asian sense.
6. A Philosphical Aside
I owe the distinction between idea
and word to Descartes, who made such a distinction in a few telling cases. He
said there is no idea corresponding to the words “nothing” or “rest” or
“darkness.”[38]
These ideas are mere negations of their positive counterparts.
Descartes
was groping towards a sense-reference distinction, first made explicit in his
seminal essay “On Sense and Reference’ by Gottlob Frege. We understand what
“darkness” means, but the word does not correspond to anything—it has sense, but no reference.
However, Frege also made a third distinction:
The reference and sense of a sign are to be
distinguished from the associated ideas.... The idea is subjective: one man’s
idea is not that of another. There result, as a matter of course, a variety of
differences in the ideas associated with the same sense. A painter, a horseman,
and a zoologist will probably connect different ideas with the name ‘Bucephalus.’
This constitutes an essential distinction between the idea and the sign’s
sense, which may be the common property of many and is therefore not a part of
a mode of the individual mind. For one can hardly deny that mankind has a
common store of thoughts which is transmitted form one generation to another.[39]
The unfortunate emphasis on
“mankind” in the last sentence has been de-emphasised by Willard Van Orman
Quine. According to Quine, nothing can count as the unique meaning of a word or
expression; meaning is indeterminate. Why? Because meaning is inextricably
connected with behaviour, which in turn is connected to a world-view. Thus,
words acquire meaning only in relation to their place in the language and the
world-view: “...people feel drawn to a mentalistic account of language, despite
the conspicuous fact that language is a social enterprise....”[40]
Thus we cannot translate the English words slave
or free into other languages: the
differing world-views, that is, historical experiences, would not permit such
translation.
The same conclusion is reached via
the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis and Wittgenstein’s stress on the connection between
linguistic activity and a “way of life.”[41]
The great Platonic scholar Gregory Vlastos wrote: “Plato idealised the
institution of slavery, the contract theorists the institution of democracy.
Their conflicting idealism mirrored the real contradiction in Athenian society:
a free political community that rested on a slave economy.”[42] In this, he
was superbly mistaken. The supposed contradiction dissolves when we consider
the “way of life” that generates the contradiction: slavery and freedom, far
from being contradictory terms, are, in fact, complementary.
7. Democracy in Asia and Africa
Liberty Leads the People[43] |
|||
|
|
|
|
|
|
Year
|
Number of
|
Free people of the world (%)
|
|
|
|
Countries
|
Democracies
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
1980
|
121
|
37
|
35
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
1998
|
193
|
117
|
54
|
|
|
|
|
|
How then do we account for the
first paragraph of the essay and the table above? How do we explain the spread
of democracy to Asia and Africa? The
upshot of our discussion so far has been that democracy—in the sense of individual liberty—can have no place outside western Europe. As Harvard
anthropologist Stanley J. Tambiah has noted, “A social and cultural
anthropologist of my sort will necessarily advocate that a collectivity’s
cultural practices are historically rooted….”[44]
In
Bangladesh, it is
indeed true that students spearheaded a movement that toppled a dictator. But
an even more vigorous student movement in 1987 had failed to topple him. Why?
Because the General was still needed by donor countries as a bulwark against
communism. And communism was the western ideology promising, not individual,
but collective freedom: precisely what would go down well in Asia and Africa. Only when
the Berlin Wall collapsed did donors feel safe enough to allow multi-party
elections, as in Africa. Donors, not students, removed the
General.
Patrick
Chabal and Jean-Pascal Daloz, in their book Africa
Works, astutely observe: “It cannot simply be a coincidence, that, now that
the West ties aid to democratisation under the guise of multi-party elections,
multi-party elections are taking place in Africa.”[45]
Similarly, The Economist notes: “the
cold war’s end prompted western donors to stop propping up anti-communist
dictators and to start insisting on democratic reforms.”[46]
Furthermore, Chabal and Daloz say:
Indeed, the wholesale adoption of a political vocabulary issued from the
Western democratic experience is eminently misleading: the words do not
correspond to the realities which they are supposed to embody…. The vote is not
primarily a token of individual choice but of a calculus of patrimonial
reciprocity based on ties of solidarity.[47]
(Emphasis added.)
Again: “Democracy... simply has no
proper role for political losers in Africa.... Politicians
are expected to represent their constituents properly, that is, to deliver
resources to them. It is, therefore, comprehensively useless to be an
opposition politician....”[48]
The
individual is part of the patron-client nexus.
Stanley
J. Tambiah makes similar observations of South and South-East
Asia: “Ethnic equalisation, rather than freedom and equality of
the individual, is the principal charter of participatory democracy in many of
the plural and multi-ethnic societies of our time. It has been the experience
in India, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, and Malaysia....”[49]
8. The Freedom Industry
We still have to explain why so many African and Asian
countries have adopted multi-party democracy, in the teeth of opposition from
their culture and their history. Let us go back to the quotation from Chabal
and Daloz: “It cannot simply be a coincidence, that, now that the West ties aid
to democratisation under the guise of multi-party elections, multi-party
elections are taking place in Africa.” Donors want democracy; they are willing to pump money
and prestige into the idea. Therefore, a “freedom industry” has developed:
indeed, Chabal and Daloz devote many pages to articulating how “Africa works”—how Africans are systematically using
the resources of their donors. Take civil society and NGOs:
The political significance of such a massive
proliferation of NGOs in Africa deserves closer attention. Our research
suggests that this expansion is less the outcome of the increasing political
weight of civil society than the consequence of the very pragmatic realisation
that resources are now largely channelled through NGOs. It would thus be naive
to think that the advent of NGOs necessarily reflects a transition from the
ponderous world of state bureaucracy to that of more flexible ‘civic’
associations operating beyond the clutch of the state. In our view, it is
rather the reflection of a successful adaptation to the conditions laid down by
foreign donors on the part of political actors who seek in this way to gain
access to new resources.[50]
They observe that “there is today
an international ‘aid market’ which Africans know how to play with great skill.
Indeed, there is very little doubt that NGOs spend an excessive proportion of
their budget on furnishing their members with sophisticated and expensive
equipment (from computers to four-wheel drives), leaving all too little for the
development projects which justify the work of the NGOs in the first place.”[51]
This observation can be made of Bangladesh verbatim.
It has been
estimated that only 25% of donor money reaches the poor in Bangladesh.[52]
According to The Economist: “There
are about 20,000 non-governmental organisations (NGOs) in Bangladesh, probably
more than in any other country.”[53]
The implications for our present discussion are quite disturbing. Freedom has been reduced to cash.
Perhaps no other word in history has seen such an ignominious reduction as has
the word freedom. Freedom is not an
idea: it is a commodity. Furthermore, instead of individual slavery, today we
witness the spectacle of collective
slavery. Entire societies, states and peoples are dominated by means of
financial and military aid.
In his book The Arms Bazaar In The 90s, Anthony
Sampson takes western governments to task for helping firms sell arms to
promote strategic interests and as an extension of foreign policy. He observes,
“The speed with which Saddam (Hussein) had first built up his arsenal, and then
turned it against his suppliers, made nonsense of the diplomats’ justification
for selling arms: that they are an extension of foreign policy which could
bring influence to bear on the recipients, and that they could bring stability
to unstable regimes.”[54]
Given our analysis of the word freedom,
these are not surprising revelations. Freedom was once bought and sold with
great violence. John Locke, as observed, was a shareholder in the Royal African
Company. The only exception is that it is the collective that is in the market,
not the individual.
Were
he alive today, Rabindranath would have uttered the same prayer.
Where the mind is without fear
and the head is held high; ...
Into that heaven of freedom,
my Father, let my country awake.
[2] Graham
Green, The Quiet American
(Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1955), 93, 97.
[3] J. M.
Roberts, Twentieth Century: The History
of the World: 1901 To The Present (London: Allen Lane, The Penguin Press,
1999), 481.
[4] Graham
Green, The Quiet American, p. 97
[5]
Thucydides, History of the Peloponnesian
War (Chicago: Encyclopaedia Britannica,
1952), II.37.
[6] Thucydides, VII.69.
[7] “Politics,”
trans. B. Jowett, The Complete Works of
Aristotle, ed. Jonathan Barnes (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press,
1995), 1275b19-20.
[8]
Politics, 1317b1-13.
[9] Hugh
Thomas, The Slave Trade (London:
Papermac, 1998), 596.
[10] Lord
Byron, Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage,
Canto The Third, XIX – XX, http://gutenberg.net/
chpl10.zip
[11] Aeschylus, The
Persians, in Aeschylus, Sophocles,
Euripides, Aristophanes, trans. G. M. Cookson (Chicago: Encyclopaedia Britannica,
1952), 239-240.
[12]
Perry Anderson, Passages from Antiquity
to Feudalism (London: New Left Books, 1974), 22.
[13] “Politics,”
1253b17-19.
[14] Plato,
“Republic,” trans. Paul Shorey, in Edith Hamilton and Huntington
Cairns, eds., Plato: The Collected Dialogues (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University
Press, 1996), 463a-b.
[15] “Statesman,”
trans. J. B. Kemp, in Plato: The
Collected Dialogues, 259b.
[16] Scott
Christianson, With Liberty for Some: 500 Years of
Imprisonment in America (Boston: Northeastern
University Press, 1998), 52.
[17] Hugh
Thomas, The Slave Trade, 199, 201.
[18] John
Locke, Two Treatises of Government, Chap. IV: Of Slavery, Sec. 22, http://gutenberg.net/ trgov10.zip
[19] John
Locke, Two Treatises of Government, Chap. IV: Of Slavery, Sec. 24.
[20] Thomas,
The Slave Trade, 596.
[21] Quoted
ibid., 453.
[22]
www.poemhunter.com/james-thomson/poet-6883/
[23] Eric
Dunning, “Race Relations,” in Geoffrey Hurd, ed., Human Societies (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1973), 158.
[24] Ibid.,
166.
[25]
“Dred Scott decision,” in Encyclopaedia
Britannica, 15th Edition.
[26] Chambers Twenty-first Century Dictionary
(New Delhi: Allied Publishers (India)
Ltd, 2000).
[27] William
L. Westermann, The Slave Systems of Greek
and Roman Antiquity (Philadelphia: The American Philosophical Society,
1955), 43.
[28] S. E. Finer,
The History of Government from the
Earliest Times (New York: Oxford University Press, 1997), 709-710.
[29]
“Qutb-ud-Din Aybak,” Encyclopaedia
Britannica, 15th Edition.
[30] Westermann,
Slave Systems, 39.
[31] Anderson,
Passages, 21.
[32] Westermann,
Slave Systems, 47.
[33] John
R. Baines, “Egypt,”
in Encyclopaedia Britannica, 15th
Edition.
[34] Finer, History of Government, 502; Jacque
Gernet, A History of Chinese Civilisation,
trans. J. R. Foster (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 150.
[35] Westermann,
Slave Systems, 9.
[36] Ibid.,
39-41.
[37] Ibid.,
63, 101-102, 113-117.
[38] Rene Descartes,
“Meditations On First Philosophy (Meditation III),” in Descartes: Philosophical Writings,
trans. and selected Elizabeth Anscombe and Peter Thomas Geach
(Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1971).
[39] Gottlob
Frege, “On Sense and Reference,” in A. W. Moore, ed., Meaning and Reference (New
York: Oxford University Press, 1993), 25-26.
[40] W. V.
Quine, “Mind and Verbal Dispositions,” in Meaning
and Reference, 81.
[41]
“translation” in Antony Flew, ed., A
Dictionary Of Philosophy (London: Pan Books, 1979).
[42] Gregory
Vlastos, “Slavery in Plato’s Thought,” Platonic
Studies (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1981), 152-3.
[43]
Compiled from The Economist, 11
September 1999, “Reflections on the 20th Century,” 7.
[44] Stanley
J. Tambiah ,Leveling Crowds:
Ethnonationalist Conflicts and Collective Violence in South Asia (New Delhi: Vistaar
Publications, 1996), 327.
[45] Patrick
Chabal and Jean-Pascal Daloz, Africa Works: Disorder as Political Instrument
(Oxford: James Currey, 1999), 118.
[46] The Economist, 18 December 2004, 69.
[47] Chabal
and Daloz, Africa Works, 38-39.
[48] Ibid., 56.
[49] Tambiah ,Leveling Crowds, 335.
[50] Chabal
and Daloz, Africa Works, 22.
[51] Ibid.,
23.
[52] Tabibul
Islam, “Foreign Aid Said To Help Only The Rich,” The New Nation, 26 September 2003, 9.
[53] “NGOs
in Bangladesh,”
The Economist, 15 March 2003, 29.
[54] Quoted
in “A Survey of the Defence Industry,” The
Economist, 20 July 2002, 6.
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