From Protest To Mainstream:
A History Of The Sciences and Empires Commission
By Jacob Koshy
In July 2017, when historians of science met in Rio de Janeiro for the 25th edition of the quadrennial International Congress of History of Science and Technology (ICHST), a smaller marked the moment marked its 20th anniversary in an overflowing venue. The Sciences and Empires Commission (SCIEMP) became one of the 16 commissions of the Division of History of Science (now Division of History of Science and Technology [DHST]) in 1997 in Liège, Belgium at the occasion of the meeting of the DHS General Assembly. DHST is one of two divisions of the International Union of History and Philosophy of Science and Technology (IUHPST).
The creation of a Commission is always the culmination of years of planned, focussed activity by a group of pioneering scholars committed to the significance of a theme—in this case, how colonial powers influenced the practice of science in their colonies. Members of SCIEMP and its preceding network worked to establish —and over the years work to establish it as research theme. While a single Commission might look like a mere twig when viewed as part DHST and others scientific unions affiliated to the banyan-like International Council for Science, it has concentrated the intellectual energy of scholars with diverse interests, from across the world, and has been instrumental in asking probing questions that challenge standard narratives. The SCIEMP, and the sub-networks it has bloomed, has helped scholars publish, exchange ideas and expand the concept of empire into new directions. For instance, a search on Academia.edu, under the term ‘Sciences and Empires’ reveals papers as varied as ‘Agriculture in Indonesia’ (Maat, 2016) and stories of explorer collectors appointed by Portugal to study specimens in Portuguese Africa (Madruga, unpublished) and ‘Science and the French Empire’ (Osborne, 2005).
While the tendency to form groups is a human, it is also a truism that conversation and interactions on formal groups networks—be they Whatsapp groups, newsletters or email subscriber lists—tend to wax and wane. Many affiliates of the extended SCIEMP have never seen the early, printed newsletters of the network that circulated across the world in the 1990s and there are others, who’ve abandoned mail networks for the ease of instant one-on-one communication email. Indeed, the emergence of the network, in the early 1990s, coincided with the internationalisation of the Internet and this influenced the patterns of communication of the members of the network.
This essay is organised chronologically. From the mid-1980s, when a need for the commission was first articulated, to the early 2000s and stresses on the methods used by leaders of the commission to keep the group active. While the subject matter of the SCIEMP has a global, historical sweep both in space and time—from early Turkish Science, Brazilian nuclear imports and the influence of the Jesuits in 16th century Japan—I’ve centred my narrative around Indian participation in the SCIEMP. This is due to my greater familiarity with the history of science in India, access to scholars of science history based in India and other Indian scholars who have played key roles in SCIEMP.
Beginnings
The origins of the Science and Empire network can be traced to 1983-85. The REHSEIS (Recherches Epistemologiques et Historiques sur les Sciences Exactes et les Institutions Scientifiques) group based in Paris included this theme among its three research programmes. A year earlier, in 1983, the National Institute of Science, Technology and Development Studies (NISTADS ), New Delhi had initiated a few projects in this area and organised a seminar, of Indian and French historians of science in New Delhi called ‘Science and Empires’ in January, 1986. The French contingent included Kapil Raj, Roshdi Rashed, Michael Paty and Christian Houzel and the hosts, in New Delhi, among others, were A Rahman, Dhruv Raina and S Irfan Habib. The proceedings from this seminar became part of a volume, edited by Deepak Kumar, called Science and Empire: Essays in Indian Context (1700-1947) (Anamika Prakashan, 1991). In this classic work, one hears the murmurings of discontent against the classical narrative of science being a uniquely European enterprise that had to be transferred to recipients. A Rahman, freedom fighter and historian, sumed it up best in his paper when he said that ‘Unless the significance and consequences of the impact of the colonial period are understood, it will not be possible to understand some of the features of contemporary society .... It is hoped this seminar will make a beginning by creating an interest in the subject and establishing a nucleus of workers to look objectively at the information and literature available’ (Rahman, 1991). Two years later, another Indo-Australian Seminar on Science, Technology and Colonisation was organised in May 1988 in New Delhi, and here too discussions were along the lines as the 1986 seminar.
Science and empire, as a theme for research began to catch the attention of scholars internationally. However, it wasn’t until an April 1990 colloquium organised by the REHSEIS, in the UNESCO building in Paris, that scholars decided to set up a formal network of scholars interested in the theme.
The four-day affair, formally labelled: Sciences and Empires—A Comparative History of Scientific Exchanges: European Expansion and Scientific Development in Asian, African, American and Oceanic Countries was organised by the REHSEIS group (Research on Epistemology and History of Exact Sciences and Scientific Institutions) of CNRS (National Centre for Scientific Research).
The idea for such a conference was first proposed by Professor Roshdi Rashed who’d suggested that this be a research endeavour of the REHSEIS group. Nearly 120 participants from twenty countries, including Brazil, India, China, Japan, France, Australia and Spain were present. About 40 papers were presented and several hours of discussion resulted from these presentation.
In the mid-1980s, “Sciences and Empires” wasn’t an accepted sub-discipline of the history of science. Research on the history of science history had been dominated by two broad, traditional perspectives: science that was done in the colonies and its links to metropolitain imperatives; and the political considerations that led the rulers of a country to adopt and propagate certain scientific practices. However, what emerged from the deliberations during those days were fundamental questions such as: what exactly was “European Science;” how was modern science connected to science in the ancient and medieval periods; how was scientific knowledge integrated with local and national needs; how did colonized populations interpret, alter and reframe this science; and finally which classes within the colony were impacted by the deployment of that science. There were also questions raised about how scientific communities came into being. This conference was a kind of “grand stage” where historians of science saw that understanding the processes that shaped science were important for public policy formation and for furthering the aims of UNESCO. (Petitjean, Jami, Moulin, eds., 1992). Unlike the few previous conferences of this sort that only saw participation by academics, this conference brought academics into contact with the office of the United Nations Secretary General. Here, the UNESCO, a quasi-political body recognised that historical studies of science and empires had a bearing on state policy.
Adnan Badran, Assistant Director-General for Science at UNESCO, spelt out why the United Nations considered a detailed deliberation on the nature of Eurocentric science as necessary. “Man had also learnt over the last 10 years how to nearly fabricate a human being, over the past 50 years how to destroy the planet instantly, and over the past 200 years how to employ machines to free humans from their daily chores ... However, the world seems to be in a crisis owing, precisely, to such an understanding.” The UNESCO, he stated, believed in the transfer of knowledge, education and the building up of institutional infrastructures to foster the “harmonious and sound development” of its member states. It had been thought that this could be done through marshalling scientific advances and technological capabilities in a massive educational effort, a carefully-designed programme of transferring technical expertise. However, UNESCO’s experience (1950-1990) was that it was a slow process with varying outcomes among countries. Some countries saw transformation within a single generation and others very slowly. UNESCO wanted to consider if the study of past science might tell them how to accelerate technological and scientific transfer.
Conference participants raised and sometimes addressed manifold questions. UNESCO was interested to know if there might be general rules underlying rapid science-and-technology-led transformations. What kind of political institutions or measures were needed to absorb such changes and was there an “internal dynamics of knowledge” that determine the pace of transformation. Further, how could statesmen prepare educational infrastructure and establish a research base to benefit from the “scientific revolution?” Questions such why certain ideas prevailed over borders and cultures and whether universality was a quintessential characteristic were also raised. Badran and UNESCO held that science couldn’t be viewed as independent of its social and cultural context. Hence, to promote certain policies and strategies in developing countries, the UNESCO was “dependent” on learning lessons from the past and the scholarly work being presented at the conference.
Conference organisers were careful to encourage cross-cultural comparisons. Seven of the nine sessions focussed on themes intrinsic to a particular discipline (medicine, botany, institutions) and various attributes of European scientific expansion, such as imperial policies and expeditions. There were intense debates on the strategies employed by European powers and the problems encountered when integrating aspects of classical and modern science.
The ethnomatician Ubiratan D Ambrosio, President Latin American History of Science and Technology, laid out the need for a new historiographical approach to traditional knowledge. The opening up of the Atlantic led to “new forms of explanation” of natural phenomena because of an exchange of scientific information, observations and organised knowledge in astronomy, geography, zoology, mineralogy and agriculture. Any programme in the history of science had to account for how these exchanges laid the grounds for progress because of a) an accelerated consumption of raw materials and mercantilist expansion b) Reordering of geopolitics, defence and strategy c) New concepts of property and d) new concepts of production with the use of immigrant labour, expansion of monoculture, development of industrial management and then the Industrial Revolution. Histories of science ought to account for this but the practically, Eurocentric versions of such histories have tended to focus on ‘winning ideas.’ For instance, the importance given to Pythagorean-like theorems or the existence of zero assumed that they played the same role in all societies as it did in Greek thought. It also assumed that the existence of zero would automatically imply that calculus would also be discovered within a few centuries. This revealed observer bias and assumptions of ‘developed’ and ‘developing.’ Most science history spoke of ideas that were specific to less than 1% of a population and, even fewer, when seen through the sweep of history. 99% of people are unaware of Western science and yet they contribute to thought and the formation of ideas. These ideas needed to be incorporated rather than dismissed as ‘ad-hoc’ or superstition, or reducing traditional knowledge to folklore. Else scholarship and discourse would be reduced about talking to science as interpreted by a privileged 1%. New epistemologies were needed to develop and integrate forms of knowledge and new methodologies of research. This is to eliminate ideas such as ‘third world’ and that when the history of science is discussed in the 21st century, the connotation of empire is changed. Idea of ‘empires’ itself was built up as part of an imposition of some forms of knowledge, property and modes of production. (Petitjean et.al, 1992)
Another illustration of how political considerations could concomitantly encourage traditional medicine but at the same suppress it was raised by the case of Ayurveda and Unani medicine in early 20th century India.
The colonial period let to the domination of western medicine but gave new lease of life to traditional medicine and caused it to flourish. Traditional Indian medicine became linked to nationalist movements in India. Ayurveda and Unani, ancient and medieval systems of India changed only moderately and had been passed on to, largely, under-qualified practitioners. Hakims and Unani medicinalists were appointed by British colonists in Punjab. They, however, didn’t encourage research and further investigation and only promoted Western medicine. But given that a very large number of Indians relied on traditional formulations, the government, for matters of political expediency, encouraged it for public health practice. This was similar to French approaches in Indochina where some indigenous healing systems were retained for the colonized. Ayurvedic practitioners in Bengal saw an opportunity to promote their medical practices by imbibing commercial practices that were used by the British to promote Western medicine. Ayurvedic practitioners such as Ganaprasad Sen, were among those who exported Ayurvedic formulations and several others, mostly in West Bengal, set up factories and imbibed modern methods of production to produce Ayurvedic medicines. Practitioners became rich. The annual profit, in 1910, of one of these firms was a princely Rs 200,000. On the other hand, several provinces had branches of the Ayurveda Congress. These were presided over by the luminaries of India’s freedom struggle such as Mohandas Gandhi and Jawaharlal Nehru and at these fora, they demanded government patronage for Ayurveda research. These were denied by the government at a Central level. However these political leaders themselves were not convinced of the superiority of these systems over Western medicine and in fact “had strong reservations” about them. But because of the nationalistic movements and its potency as a rallying force against imperialistic power, they sided with them.
Yet another paper presented at the conference cited historical evidence from 19th century Bengal to show that European science wasn’t always forced upon natives but was, to quite the contrary, actively sought out by the elites in the society. Kapil Raj, a member of the early SCIEMP, related how Bengal’s Hindu elite (or the bhadralok) set up schools and colleges to appropriate scientific knowledge to improve their likelihood at jobs in the colonial administration. Paradoxically, the hallmark of European Science—the culture of experimentation—wasn’t popular among these elites, who preferred the abstraction of literature and mathematics over the grime of experimentation. The diffusion of European knowledge followed complicated trajectories and was embroiled in potent feedback loops. For example, this same Bengali elite later played a leading role in India’s nationalist movement and had key roles in shaping India’s new experimentally-driven pharmaceutical industry. This review, focused mainly on South Asia, constitutes only a sliver of the discussions at the conference. However, they set the tone for the kind of themes that expanded to become research areas and sites for future collaboration and investigations.
The Newsletter Era
In the aftermath of the conference and a decision to bring about a formal set of scholars to keep this theme in focus, a major step was a clear demarcated set of responsibilities on how scholars, connected with this theme, could stay informed of research, conferences, grants, publications and books that touched upon themes relevant to science and colonisation. NISTADS and REHSEIS took it upon themselves to run the enterprise for an experimental period of 2-3 years. Deepak Kumar, at NISTADS, and Patrick Petitjean, at REHSEIS, would be in charge of the network.
The stated aims were:
The tangible result of this network was the newsletter. It was to be biannual and alternatively edited in New Delhi and Paris. The contents of the newsletter would include, details of research projects being pursued in different universities/institutes; details on Ph.D or theses, recently completed or in progress, summary of seminars and conferences, announcements of forthcoming meetings and seminars and references on publications of research papers and monographs.
The first advisory committee of the network consisted of L Pyenson (Canada), A Rahman (India), J Saldana (Mexico), R Rashed (France), N Reingold (USA), E Ihsanoglu (Turkey), M Worboys (United Kingdom), R MacLeod (Australia), and W Bing (China) (Authors notes)
The evolution of these newsletters in terms of content, geographical location of contributors, and responsiveness to new literature flooding in, shows that scholars considered it a useful compendium.The first newsletter, published July 1991, was just two pages in length. It carried a report on a June 1991 conference at the Leiden Institute. Called the Transfer of Science and Technology between Europe and Asia during 1498-1780, it was jointly organised by the Institute for the History of European Expansion (Leiden University) and the Royal Tropical Institute (Amsterdam). Deepak Kumar, one of the editors of the newsletter, reported that the conference saw ‘sixteen well-researched papers and some, accompanies by superb commentaries.’ The editor’s \ comment is evident in his next statement. “Yet it could not be a total success, as the sessions were loosely knit and the papers varied considerably in depth, dimension and focus.” This was followed by a list of speakers. As subsequent editions of the newsletters would further reflect, the newsletter—right from issue 1 (or n0 as formally christened)—had decided that it wouldn’t be a mere chronicler of events but would also publish sharp commentary. The first issue also had brief notes on a forthcoming ‘Conference on Environment and History in South and South East Asia to be held on 18-21 Feb, 1992 at NISTADS, New Delhi and the announcement of two new publications. One was the earlier-cited Deepak Kumar (ed.) Science and Empire: Essays in Indian Context and the other was Satpal Sangwan Science, Technology and Colonisation: An Indian Experience, 1757-1857. Both of these were published by Anamika Prakashan.
The second issue, dated January 1992, has twice the pages as n0 and some portions in French. The introductory remarks on the newsletter are wrapped up in the cover page. The rest of the pages are devoted to professional snippets on scholars, around the world, explicating their fields of research interest in science history, colonialism, medical practices etc. along with their contact details. Consider a sample note for a flavour of these:
‘Dr Manuel Lucena Giraldo is working on Authority and Territory in New Granada: The Enlightened Projects of Colonization (1770-1808)
His project is to develop a definition of the colonisation system that was established or developed in the different geographical environments in the Kingdom of Nueva Granada (or Colombia) on the second half of the 18th century. That territory was selected because it joins such different environments as the desert, plains, and different kinds of forest. His purpose is to investigate if the general political lines of occupation were adapted to the different ecological environments or not and to analyse which relationship may exist between the Spanish, African and India manner to “build the landscape.’’ He tries to study the urbanisation system, the crop, transport and scientific and technological device too. Contact: Dr Manuel Lucena Giraldo, Centro de Estudios Historicos, Calle Duque de Medinaceli 6, 28014, Madrid, Spain. Fax (34-1) 585.61.97.’ (Newsletter N1, 1992)
However, by the second issue itself, the editors were clear on putting the Sciences and Empires network on firmer ground as well as making itself visible on well-established scholarly platforms.
Deepak Kumar, for instance, noted that he would be organising a session on Technology and Colonisation at the annual meeting of the American Society for the History of Technology, at Uppsala, Sweden, August 1992. “...The aim is to explore how and to what extent the technological and colonial processes interacted and influenced each other. What impact colonisation had on the indigenous technological systems and capabilities? How did colonialism determine transfer mechanisms? The Eurocentric focus in history of technology should now give way to more comparative studies, especially on the colonial experiences in Asia, Africa and Latin America.”
In anticipation of the 19th International Congress for the History of Science, Zaragosa, Spain, 1993 the newsletter says “...as other official societies or informal networks, our Science and Empire network will take this opportunity to have its first meeting, and to set up its organization.’’ (Author notes)
In subsequent editions, there were separate sections: Institutions, Events, Books and Articles to navigate readers through sections that might be of specific interest to them. We see, for instance, a note on the Turkish Society for History of Science (TSHS). Constituted due to the efforts of Professor Ekmeleddin Ihasnoglu (later to be veteran of Turkey’s third-largest political party, called the Grand National Party), The TSHS, in Istanbul, had already organised symposia on ‘Scientific and Professional Associations in the Ottoman Period,’ and ‘Science Institutions in Islamic Civilization.’ The very next note on an institution is that of the Colonial Science Club of Sydney to collate and discuss work related to the history of science, technology and medicine in Australia. The newsletter also featured the first of its cartoons. These were single panels, sans dialogue-boxes, and usually featured scientists or mathematicians lost in abstruse musings.
If one were to choose a piece that encapsulated the core concern of what a Sciences and Empires Commission aimed to address, it was a trenchant criticism by Aant Elzinga, President of the European Association for the Study of Science and Technology, of Samuel Huntington’s influential essay, The Clash of Civilizations. Huntington, to summarise, argued that next world-war would be between ‘Western’ and ‘Non-Western civilizations.’ These weren’t mere political conflicts but ideals such as ‘...individualism, liberalism, constitutionalism, human rights, equality, the rule of law, democracy, free markets, separation of Church and State, as well as the notion of a universal civilization’ in opposition to, fundamental concepts in Non-Western ones. ‘Huntington is convinced, says Elzinga, that ‘Asians despite differences among themselves will find a Confucian-Islam bond to challenge Western interests, values and powers...in his view, the ‘velvet curtain’ or culture has replaced the Iron Culture of ideology..’ (Newsletter n 6, 1994)
Elzinga called on scholars of science and empire to “challenge discourses such as Huntington’s” that were ‘politically informed discourses dressed up in the garb of science and scholarship.’ Scholars of the history of science, he continued, ought to be challenging such discourses by raising ‘awareness that the European civilizational identity is in part a process of construction and perennial reconstruction, itself informed by broad issues of the power of the politics of nations and regions.’ This, Elzinga proposed, would be a topic worth of a future workshop.
The 5th newsletter related that the Sciences and Empires group had its first formal meeting, at Zaragosa. Forth scholars attended this meeting and for “one third, it was their first contact with the network.”
There were around 500 addresses on the newsletter’s mailing list and about a third of them paid for their subscriptions, participants of the network were informed. However, subscription fees were never to be made mandatory for receiving a letter. Put together with another concern raised by members of the network that many young scholars and ‘Third World scientists’ found it hard to attend such proceedings, it is apparent that affairs of the network ran on a tight budget. “There wasn’t much money but a lot of passion and energy in those days,” Kumar told me in a private correspondence.
Meeting participants suggested that the newsletter could be improved by increasing the number of pages to 12 or 16. There ought to be more book reviews and general reviews about one country. To meet these demands, there’s a call for setting up national correspondents. They would be tasked d with assembling news of interest to the wider scholarly community of local events. The newsletter would also have to report on whether academic discussions and scholarship was finding its way into “teaching and university curricula in different countries.” Clearly, the Science and Empire, was ambitious enough in wanting to make a discernible impact on global scholarship. The concluding section of the newsletter notes: ‘The Network will try to become an official section of the International Union for the History & Philosophy of Science (IUHPS) and Dr Deepak Kumar will negotiate this.’ (Newsletter N4, 1993)
Patrick Petitjean took up this cause in the 6th newsletter. To become a commission of the IUHPS, the network needed: a programme of activities, directions of work, a provisional but identified bureau. He invited discussion on whether the network ought to be organised on the basis of individual scholars, or as a federation of associations and networks. The upcoming International Historical Congress in Liège, in 1997, would be the forum for presenting plans for the future of the network and its eventual transition into a commission. (Newsletter N5, 1994)
Perusing the letters, one also witnesses how newer technological modes were being employed to record the history of science. In newsletter 6, there’s a report of a video documentary, The Identity of India, Bombay, 1992 and published by the Comet Media Foundation.It is described as one of the most ‘definitive attempts to prepare a full and authentic account of the history of science in India.’ The 13 films were supported by the National Council for Science and Technology Communication, Government of India and it was directed by Chandita Mukherjee. It entailed 4 years of production work and was available with English subtitles in ‘PAL and NTSC formats.’ In the next issue of the newsletter is a news-item of how the Pan American Health Organisation had set up an ‘email network’ of historians of public health in Latin America and the Caribbean. The newsletters too would later give way to the email subscriber lists of members.
The newsletters played a significant part in establishing ‘science and empire’ as an important theme. Researchers no long felt they work in isolation. Thanks to the newsletters there was greater awareness among scholars of the kind of work, societies, debates, people and career opportunities that were available in this sub-field of the history of science. By 1998, books for scholars in the field, such as Roy MacLeod and Deepak Kumar (ed.), Technology and The Raj, an English translation of Jean-Jacques Salomon and Andre Lebeau’s Mirages of Development, Science and Technology for the Third Worlds, and Michael Osborne’s Nature, the Exotic and the Science of French Colonialism, had been published. All of this made the case for establishing the Sciences and Empires as a Commission, far stronger.
The are now moderate but tangible financial benefits for being recognized as a formal ‘commission’ of the DHST but mainly the theme gains recognition on the global platform of the DHST. In this way and others the theme has been carried on by subsequent generations of research scholars. Formal commission status with DHST was also helped to secure additional funding from agencies and national governments. In India, for instance, where the ministries for education and culture, are key sources of funds for scholars wanting to travel to international conferences, a ‘commission’ that is linked to or seen as part of the UNESCO family improves the chances of a prospective grant application.
At the 20th International Congress of History of Science, Liège, Belgium, the DHST General Assembly approved the formation of the commission. In the words of Deepak Kumar, the first President of the Sciences and Empires Commission:
“There would be 1,000 people in the General Assembly. I made a presentation that lasted 5-10 minutes. The President and the Executive committee of the Congress were convinced of the importance of such a Commission. Robert Halleux was the President and General Secretary of the Congress at that time.”
Changes, and the Present
From at least 2002, the newsletters gave way to an “unmoderated” mail list. The ‘Sciences and Empires Groupe’ opened to all (emphasis mine) who were interested in the topic but its major purpose was to serve as the major forum for discussions by historians, philosophers, and sociologists of science, technology and medicine who study how these activities intersect with colonialism, imperialism and postcolonialism. ‘It will also serve as the newsletter distribution list,’ the introduction to this subscriber list notes.
What’s immediately discernible was that even as the network adopted the technology that most communication networks were migrating to, it sought to reach out to groups beyond the “network of scholars” that the newsletters targeted. Michael Osborne, at the University of California, Santa Barbara, was the pivot of this subscriber list. In 2004, Osborne, Silvia Figueirôa (Brazil) and Togo Tsukahara (Japan) reported that the website of the ‘Sciences and Empires groupe’ was active. The list posted job announcements, and news of funding and travel fellowships and post-doctoral opportunities. Attempts to review relevant books in consistent fashion were not successful. The list also served to keep members posted about the group’s meetings at forthcoming Congresses in Beijing, Budapest, Manchester, Rio de Janeio and to invite joint proposals for sessions and request help with research topics. Many members on the list spoke of it as being extremely valuable to their career and there were non-subscribers too who kept themselves apprised of research themes within SCIEMP.
Cristiana Bastos, at the Institute of Social Sciences-University of Lisbon, said that she was a regular recipient of the email lists for “years” and they were “extremely inspirational” for her research interests in colonial medicine. She told me in an email “... I worked on colonial medicine at a time when there were not that many people doing it, especially outside the sphere related to the former British Empire. The literature, authors, topics etc addressed in SCIEMP were really spot on.” John Mathew, at the Indian Institute of Science, Education and Research, Pune, told me that his personal friendships with several members of the SCIEMP and interests in the history of zoology has him follow developments in the field. Mathew took part in one of several science and empires sessions at the Rio DHST Congress in July 2017.
For all that the science and empires group managed to achieve, in the last few decades, in terms of creating a research area it has had limited success in reaching out to scholars beyond universities in Western Europe, the Americas and, to some extent, Japan. While the subject of science and empires found echo in the Subaltern studies movement of the 80s and 90s, it hasn’t led to a sizeable number of students in Indian universities, for example, who’ve mined primary sources in non-English sources to channel new lines of enquiry contesting popular narratives of science that is still, at least in popular discourse or at the level of school curricula, dominated by European triumphalism. Kumar attributes this to the lack of jobs for professional historians of science. A student of history or a student of English may find a post in a university, but in all these years, it has been hard to introduce a single paper on the subject, at the Master’s level examination, Kumar told me. The SCIEMP membership leans on national committees to lend vigour as well financial support to keep the body moving. Given that entirely new forms of technological empires—gestated in Silicon Valley--now influence the global circulation of finance and and knowledge. SCIEMP too is looking for new venues and new partnerships to inspire more scholars and keep it buoyant for its next 20 years and beyond. At the Rio de Janeiro DHST Congress in 2017, one of the sessions—organised by Dr. Jahnavi Phalkey and Dr. Niklas Thod Jensen—was focussed on identifying new ways to study Science and Empire to include empires beyond Europe and to consider histories of the American, Chinese, Japanese and Soviet Empires. In expanding the scope of study, it is hoped that among other things, there would be critical re-look at how knowledge circulated among individuals and communities and to what extent it shuttled between these groups and colonisers. Further how much, and why, some of this knowledge came to be elevated as ‘science’ and why some didn’t make the cut.
References:
Acknowledgements: The author wishes to thank Deepak Kumar, Patrick Petitjean, Cristiana Bastos, John Mathew for help with sourcing primary material, and for taking time out for interviews. Special thanks to Jahnavi Phalkey, President, SCIEMP, for conceiving the need for this essay and introductions.
The creation of a Commission is always the culmination of years of planned, focussed activity by a group of pioneering scholars committed to the significance of a theme—in this case, how colonial powers influenced the practice of science in their colonies. Members of SCIEMP and its preceding network worked to establish —and over the years work to establish it as research theme. While a single Commission might look like a mere twig when viewed as part DHST and others scientific unions affiliated to the banyan-like International Council for Science, it has concentrated the intellectual energy of scholars with diverse interests, from across the world, and has been instrumental in asking probing questions that challenge standard narratives. The SCIEMP, and the sub-networks it has bloomed, has helped scholars publish, exchange ideas and expand the concept of empire into new directions. For instance, a search on Academia.edu, under the term ‘Sciences and Empires’ reveals papers as varied as ‘Agriculture in Indonesia’ (Maat, 2016) and stories of explorer collectors appointed by Portugal to study specimens in Portuguese Africa (Madruga, unpublished) and ‘Science and the French Empire’ (Osborne, 2005).
While the tendency to form groups is a human, it is also a truism that conversation and interactions on formal groups networks—be they Whatsapp groups, newsletters or email subscriber lists—tend to wax and wane. Many affiliates of the extended SCIEMP have never seen the early, printed newsletters of the network that circulated across the world in the 1990s and there are others, who’ve abandoned mail networks for the ease of instant one-on-one communication email. Indeed, the emergence of the network, in the early 1990s, coincided with the internationalisation of the Internet and this influenced the patterns of communication of the members of the network.
This essay is organised chronologically. From the mid-1980s, when a need for the commission was first articulated, to the early 2000s and stresses on the methods used by leaders of the commission to keep the group active. While the subject matter of the SCIEMP has a global, historical sweep both in space and time—from early Turkish Science, Brazilian nuclear imports and the influence of the Jesuits in 16th century Japan—I’ve centred my narrative around Indian participation in the SCIEMP. This is due to my greater familiarity with the history of science in India, access to scholars of science history based in India and other Indian scholars who have played key roles in SCIEMP.
Beginnings
The origins of the Science and Empire network can be traced to 1983-85. The REHSEIS (Recherches Epistemologiques et Historiques sur les Sciences Exactes et les Institutions Scientifiques) group based in Paris included this theme among its three research programmes. A year earlier, in 1983, the National Institute of Science, Technology and Development Studies (NISTADS ), New Delhi had initiated a few projects in this area and organised a seminar, of Indian and French historians of science in New Delhi called ‘Science and Empires’ in January, 1986. The French contingent included Kapil Raj, Roshdi Rashed, Michael Paty and Christian Houzel and the hosts, in New Delhi, among others, were A Rahman, Dhruv Raina and S Irfan Habib. The proceedings from this seminar became part of a volume, edited by Deepak Kumar, called Science and Empire: Essays in Indian Context (1700-1947) (Anamika Prakashan, 1991). In this classic work, one hears the murmurings of discontent against the classical narrative of science being a uniquely European enterprise that had to be transferred to recipients. A Rahman, freedom fighter and historian, sumed it up best in his paper when he said that ‘Unless the significance and consequences of the impact of the colonial period are understood, it will not be possible to understand some of the features of contemporary society .... It is hoped this seminar will make a beginning by creating an interest in the subject and establishing a nucleus of workers to look objectively at the information and literature available’ (Rahman, 1991). Two years later, another Indo-Australian Seminar on Science, Technology and Colonisation was organised in May 1988 in New Delhi, and here too discussions were along the lines as the 1986 seminar.
Science and empire, as a theme for research began to catch the attention of scholars internationally. However, it wasn’t until an April 1990 colloquium organised by the REHSEIS, in the UNESCO building in Paris, that scholars decided to set up a formal network of scholars interested in the theme.
The four-day affair, formally labelled: Sciences and Empires—A Comparative History of Scientific Exchanges: European Expansion and Scientific Development in Asian, African, American and Oceanic Countries was organised by the REHSEIS group (Research on Epistemology and History of Exact Sciences and Scientific Institutions) of CNRS (National Centre for Scientific Research).
The idea for such a conference was first proposed by Professor Roshdi Rashed who’d suggested that this be a research endeavour of the REHSEIS group. Nearly 120 participants from twenty countries, including Brazil, India, China, Japan, France, Australia and Spain were present. About 40 papers were presented and several hours of discussion resulted from these presentation.
In the mid-1980s, “Sciences and Empires” wasn’t an accepted sub-discipline of the history of science. Research on the history of science history had been dominated by two broad, traditional perspectives: science that was done in the colonies and its links to metropolitain imperatives; and the political considerations that led the rulers of a country to adopt and propagate certain scientific practices. However, what emerged from the deliberations during those days were fundamental questions such as: what exactly was “European Science;” how was modern science connected to science in the ancient and medieval periods; how was scientific knowledge integrated with local and national needs; how did colonized populations interpret, alter and reframe this science; and finally which classes within the colony were impacted by the deployment of that science. There were also questions raised about how scientific communities came into being. This conference was a kind of “grand stage” where historians of science saw that understanding the processes that shaped science were important for public policy formation and for furthering the aims of UNESCO. (Petitjean, Jami, Moulin, eds., 1992). Unlike the few previous conferences of this sort that only saw participation by academics, this conference brought academics into contact with the office of the United Nations Secretary General. Here, the UNESCO, a quasi-political body recognised that historical studies of science and empires had a bearing on state policy.
Adnan Badran, Assistant Director-General for Science at UNESCO, spelt out why the United Nations considered a detailed deliberation on the nature of Eurocentric science as necessary. “Man had also learnt over the last 10 years how to nearly fabricate a human being, over the past 50 years how to destroy the planet instantly, and over the past 200 years how to employ machines to free humans from their daily chores ... However, the world seems to be in a crisis owing, precisely, to such an understanding.” The UNESCO, he stated, believed in the transfer of knowledge, education and the building up of institutional infrastructures to foster the “harmonious and sound development” of its member states. It had been thought that this could be done through marshalling scientific advances and technological capabilities in a massive educational effort, a carefully-designed programme of transferring technical expertise. However, UNESCO’s experience (1950-1990) was that it was a slow process with varying outcomes among countries. Some countries saw transformation within a single generation and others very slowly. UNESCO wanted to consider if the study of past science might tell them how to accelerate technological and scientific transfer.
Conference participants raised and sometimes addressed manifold questions. UNESCO was interested to know if there might be general rules underlying rapid science-and-technology-led transformations. What kind of political institutions or measures were needed to absorb such changes and was there an “internal dynamics of knowledge” that determine the pace of transformation. Further, how could statesmen prepare educational infrastructure and establish a research base to benefit from the “scientific revolution?” Questions such why certain ideas prevailed over borders and cultures and whether universality was a quintessential characteristic were also raised. Badran and UNESCO held that science couldn’t be viewed as independent of its social and cultural context. Hence, to promote certain policies and strategies in developing countries, the UNESCO was “dependent” on learning lessons from the past and the scholarly work being presented at the conference.
Conference organisers were careful to encourage cross-cultural comparisons. Seven of the nine sessions focussed on themes intrinsic to a particular discipline (medicine, botany, institutions) and various attributes of European scientific expansion, such as imperial policies and expeditions. There were intense debates on the strategies employed by European powers and the problems encountered when integrating aspects of classical and modern science.
The ethnomatician Ubiratan D Ambrosio, President Latin American History of Science and Technology, laid out the need for a new historiographical approach to traditional knowledge. The opening up of the Atlantic led to “new forms of explanation” of natural phenomena because of an exchange of scientific information, observations and organised knowledge in astronomy, geography, zoology, mineralogy and agriculture. Any programme in the history of science had to account for how these exchanges laid the grounds for progress because of a) an accelerated consumption of raw materials and mercantilist expansion b) Reordering of geopolitics, defence and strategy c) New concepts of property and d) new concepts of production with the use of immigrant labour, expansion of monoculture, development of industrial management and then the Industrial Revolution. Histories of science ought to account for this but the practically, Eurocentric versions of such histories have tended to focus on ‘winning ideas.’ For instance, the importance given to Pythagorean-like theorems or the existence of zero assumed that they played the same role in all societies as it did in Greek thought. It also assumed that the existence of zero would automatically imply that calculus would also be discovered within a few centuries. This revealed observer bias and assumptions of ‘developed’ and ‘developing.’ Most science history spoke of ideas that were specific to less than 1% of a population and, even fewer, when seen through the sweep of history. 99% of people are unaware of Western science and yet they contribute to thought and the formation of ideas. These ideas needed to be incorporated rather than dismissed as ‘ad-hoc’ or superstition, or reducing traditional knowledge to folklore. Else scholarship and discourse would be reduced about talking to science as interpreted by a privileged 1%. New epistemologies were needed to develop and integrate forms of knowledge and new methodologies of research. This is to eliminate ideas such as ‘third world’ and that when the history of science is discussed in the 21st century, the connotation of empire is changed. Idea of ‘empires’ itself was built up as part of an imposition of some forms of knowledge, property and modes of production. (Petitjean et.al, 1992)
Another illustration of how political considerations could concomitantly encourage traditional medicine but at the same suppress it was raised by the case of Ayurveda and Unani medicine in early 20th century India.
The colonial period let to the domination of western medicine but gave new lease of life to traditional medicine and caused it to flourish. Traditional Indian medicine became linked to nationalist movements in India. Ayurveda and Unani, ancient and medieval systems of India changed only moderately and had been passed on to, largely, under-qualified practitioners. Hakims and Unani medicinalists were appointed by British colonists in Punjab. They, however, didn’t encourage research and further investigation and only promoted Western medicine. But given that a very large number of Indians relied on traditional formulations, the government, for matters of political expediency, encouraged it for public health practice. This was similar to French approaches in Indochina where some indigenous healing systems were retained for the colonized. Ayurvedic practitioners in Bengal saw an opportunity to promote their medical practices by imbibing commercial practices that were used by the British to promote Western medicine. Ayurvedic practitioners such as Ganaprasad Sen, were among those who exported Ayurvedic formulations and several others, mostly in West Bengal, set up factories and imbibed modern methods of production to produce Ayurvedic medicines. Practitioners became rich. The annual profit, in 1910, of one of these firms was a princely Rs 200,000. On the other hand, several provinces had branches of the Ayurveda Congress. These were presided over by the luminaries of India’s freedom struggle such as Mohandas Gandhi and Jawaharlal Nehru and at these fora, they demanded government patronage for Ayurveda research. These were denied by the government at a Central level. However these political leaders themselves were not convinced of the superiority of these systems over Western medicine and in fact “had strong reservations” about them. But because of the nationalistic movements and its potency as a rallying force against imperialistic power, they sided with them.
Yet another paper presented at the conference cited historical evidence from 19th century Bengal to show that European science wasn’t always forced upon natives but was, to quite the contrary, actively sought out by the elites in the society. Kapil Raj, a member of the early SCIEMP, related how Bengal’s Hindu elite (or the bhadralok) set up schools and colleges to appropriate scientific knowledge to improve their likelihood at jobs in the colonial administration. Paradoxically, the hallmark of European Science—the culture of experimentation—wasn’t popular among these elites, who preferred the abstraction of literature and mathematics over the grime of experimentation. The diffusion of European knowledge followed complicated trajectories and was embroiled in potent feedback loops. For example, this same Bengali elite later played a leading role in India’s nationalist movement and had key roles in shaping India’s new experimentally-driven pharmaceutical industry. This review, focused mainly on South Asia, constitutes only a sliver of the discussions at the conference. However, they set the tone for the kind of themes that expanded to become research areas and sites for future collaboration and investigations.
The Newsletter Era
In the aftermath of the conference and a decision to bring about a formal set of scholars to keep this theme in focus, a major step was a clear demarcated set of responsibilities on how scholars, connected with this theme, could stay informed of research, conferences, grants, publications and books that touched upon themes relevant to science and colonisation. NISTADS and REHSEIS took it upon themselves to run the enterprise for an experimental period of 2-3 years. Deepak Kumar, at NISTADS, and Patrick Petitjean, at REHSEIS, would be in charge of the network.
The stated aims were:
- To know the scholars working in this area, their interests and contributions
- Bringing together studies being carried out in different countires, particularly Asia, Africa Latin America with a view to draw an overall picture and to make comparative studies.
- To identify major problems and questions and to focus the attention of scholars on these.
- To promote such studies at the national and international level through research projects and seminars.
- To seek collaboration with the International Union of History and Philosophy of Science (IUHPS), International Committee for the History of Technology (ICOHTEC), UNESCO and The Third World Academy (TRIESTE).
The tangible result of this network was the newsletter. It was to be biannual and alternatively edited in New Delhi and Paris. The contents of the newsletter would include, details of research projects being pursued in different universities/institutes; details on Ph.D or theses, recently completed or in progress, summary of seminars and conferences, announcements of forthcoming meetings and seminars and references on publications of research papers and monographs.
The first advisory committee of the network consisted of L Pyenson (Canada), A Rahman (India), J Saldana (Mexico), R Rashed (France), N Reingold (USA), E Ihsanoglu (Turkey), M Worboys (United Kingdom), R MacLeod (Australia), and W Bing (China) (Authors notes)
The evolution of these newsletters in terms of content, geographical location of contributors, and responsiveness to new literature flooding in, shows that scholars considered it a useful compendium.The first newsletter, published July 1991, was just two pages in length. It carried a report on a June 1991 conference at the Leiden Institute. Called the Transfer of Science and Technology between Europe and Asia during 1498-1780, it was jointly organised by the Institute for the History of European Expansion (Leiden University) and the Royal Tropical Institute (Amsterdam). Deepak Kumar, one of the editors of the newsletter, reported that the conference saw ‘sixteen well-researched papers and some, accompanies by superb commentaries.’ The editor’s \ comment is evident in his next statement. “Yet it could not be a total success, as the sessions were loosely knit and the papers varied considerably in depth, dimension and focus.” This was followed by a list of speakers. As subsequent editions of the newsletters would further reflect, the newsletter—right from issue 1 (or n0 as formally christened)—had decided that it wouldn’t be a mere chronicler of events but would also publish sharp commentary. The first issue also had brief notes on a forthcoming ‘Conference on Environment and History in South and South East Asia to be held on 18-21 Feb, 1992 at NISTADS, New Delhi and the announcement of two new publications. One was the earlier-cited Deepak Kumar (ed.) Science and Empire: Essays in Indian Context and the other was Satpal Sangwan Science, Technology and Colonisation: An Indian Experience, 1757-1857. Both of these were published by Anamika Prakashan.
The second issue, dated January 1992, has twice the pages as n0 and some portions in French. The introductory remarks on the newsletter are wrapped up in the cover page. The rest of the pages are devoted to professional snippets on scholars, around the world, explicating their fields of research interest in science history, colonialism, medical practices etc. along with their contact details. Consider a sample note for a flavour of these:
‘Dr Manuel Lucena Giraldo is working on Authority and Territory in New Granada: The Enlightened Projects of Colonization (1770-1808)
His project is to develop a definition of the colonisation system that was established or developed in the different geographical environments in the Kingdom of Nueva Granada (or Colombia) on the second half of the 18th century. That territory was selected because it joins such different environments as the desert, plains, and different kinds of forest. His purpose is to investigate if the general political lines of occupation were adapted to the different ecological environments or not and to analyse which relationship may exist between the Spanish, African and India manner to “build the landscape.’’ He tries to study the urbanisation system, the crop, transport and scientific and technological device too. Contact: Dr Manuel Lucena Giraldo, Centro de Estudios Historicos, Calle Duque de Medinaceli 6, 28014, Madrid, Spain. Fax (34-1) 585.61.97.’ (Newsletter N1, 1992)
However, by the second issue itself, the editors were clear on putting the Sciences and Empires network on firmer ground as well as making itself visible on well-established scholarly platforms.
Deepak Kumar, for instance, noted that he would be organising a session on Technology and Colonisation at the annual meeting of the American Society for the History of Technology, at Uppsala, Sweden, August 1992. “...The aim is to explore how and to what extent the technological and colonial processes interacted and influenced each other. What impact colonisation had on the indigenous technological systems and capabilities? How did colonialism determine transfer mechanisms? The Eurocentric focus in history of technology should now give way to more comparative studies, especially on the colonial experiences in Asia, Africa and Latin America.”
In anticipation of the 19th International Congress for the History of Science, Zaragosa, Spain, 1993 the newsletter says “...as other official societies or informal networks, our Science and Empire network will take this opportunity to have its first meeting, and to set up its organization.’’ (Author notes)
In subsequent editions, there were separate sections: Institutions, Events, Books and Articles to navigate readers through sections that might be of specific interest to them. We see, for instance, a note on the Turkish Society for History of Science (TSHS). Constituted due to the efforts of Professor Ekmeleddin Ihasnoglu (later to be veteran of Turkey’s third-largest political party, called the Grand National Party), The TSHS, in Istanbul, had already organised symposia on ‘Scientific and Professional Associations in the Ottoman Period,’ and ‘Science Institutions in Islamic Civilization.’ The very next note on an institution is that of the Colonial Science Club of Sydney to collate and discuss work related to the history of science, technology and medicine in Australia. The newsletter also featured the first of its cartoons. These were single panels, sans dialogue-boxes, and usually featured scientists or mathematicians lost in abstruse musings.
If one were to choose a piece that encapsulated the core concern of what a Sciences and Empires Commission aimed to address, it was a trenchant criticism by Aant Elzinga, President of the European Association for the Study of Science and Technology, of Samuel Huntington’s influential essay, The Clash of Civilizations. Huntington, to summarise, argued that next world-war would be between ‘Western’ and ‘Non-Western civilizations.’ These weren’t mere political conflicts but ideals such as ‘...individualism, liberalism, constitutionalism, human rights, equality, the rule of law, democracy, free markets, separation of Church and State, as well as the notion of a universal civilization’ in opposition to, fundamental concepts in Non-Western ones. ‘Huntington is convinced, says Elzinga, that ‘Asians despite differences among themselves will find a Confucian-Islam bond to challenge Western interests, values and powers...in his view, the ‘velvet curtain’ or culture has replaced the Iron Culture of ideology..’ (Newsletter n 6, 1994)
Elzinga called on scholars of science and empire to “challenge discourses such as Huntington’s” that were ‘politically informed discourses dressed up in the garb of science and scholarship.’ Scholars of the history of science, he continued, ought to be challenging such discourses by raising ‘awareness that the European civilizational identity is in part a process of construction and perennial reconstruction, itself informed by broad issues of the power of the politics of nations and regions.’ This, Elzinga proposed, would be a topic worth of a future workshop.
The 5th newsletter related that the Sciences and Empires group had its first formal meeting, at Zaragosa. Forth scholars attended this meeting and for “one third, it was their first contact with the network.”
There were around 500 addresses on the newsletter’s mailing list and about a third of them paid for their subscriptions, participants of the network were informed. However, subscription fees were never to be made mandatory for receiving a letter. Put together with another concern raised by members of the network that many young scholars and ‘Third World scientists’ found it hard to attend such proceedings, it is apparent that affairs of the network ran on a tight budget. “There wasn’t much money but a lot of passion and energy in those days,” Kumar told me in a private correspondence.
Meeting participants suggested that the newsletter could be improved by increasing the number of pages to 12 or 16. There ought to be more book reviews and general reviews about one country. To meet these demands, there’s a call for setting up national correspondents. They would be tasked d with assembling news of interest to the wider scholarly community of local events. The newsletter would also have to report on whether academic discussions and scholarship was finding its way into “teaching and university curricula in different countries.” Clearly, the Science and Empire, was ambitious enough in wanting to make a discernible impact on global scholarship. The concluding section of the newsletter notes: ‘The Network will try to become an official section of the International Union for the History & Philosophy of Science (IUHPS) and Dr Deepak Kumar will negotiate this.’ (Newsletter N4, 1993)
Patrick Petitjean took up this cause in the 6th newsletter. To become a commission of the IUHPS, the network needed: a programme of activities, directions of work, a provisional but identified bureau. He invited discussion on whether the network ought to be organised on the basis of individual scholars, or as a federation of associations and networks. The upcoming International Historical Congress in Liège, in 1997, would be the forum for presenting plans for the future of the network and its eventual transition into a commission. (Newsletter N5, 1994)
Perusing the letters, one also witnesses how newer technological modes were being employed to record the history of science. In newsletter 6, there’s a report of a video documentary, The Identity of India, Bombay, 1992 and published by the Comet Media Foundation.It is described as one of the most ‘definitive attempts to prepare a full and authentic account of the history of science in India.’ The 13 films were supported by the National Council for Science and Technology Communication, Government of India and it was directed by Chandita Mukherjee. It entailed 4 years of production work and was available with English subtitles in ‘PAL and NTSC formats.’ In the next issue of the newsletter is a news-item of how the Pan American Health Organisation had set up an ‘email network’ of historians of public health in Latin America and the Caribbean. The newsletters too would later give way to the email subscriber lists of members.
The newsletters played a significant part in establishing ‘science and empire’ as an important theme. Researchers no long felt they work in isolation. Thanks to the newsletters there was greater awareness among scholars of the kind of work, societies, debates, people and career opportunities that were available in this sub-field of the history of science. By 1998, books for scholars in the field, such as Roy MacLeod and Deepak Kumar (ed.), Technology and The Raj, an English translation of Jean-Jacques Salomon and Andre Lebeau’s Mirages of Development, Science and Technology for the Third Worlds, and Michael Osborne’s Nature, the Exotic and the Science of French Colonialism, had been published. All of this made the case for establishing the Sciences and Empires as a Commission, far stronger.
The are now moderate but tangible financial benefits for being recognized as a formal ‘commission’ of the DHST but mainly the theme gains recognition on the global platform of the DHST. In this way and others the theme has been carried on by subsequent generations of research scholars. Formal commission status with DHST was also helped to secure additional funding from agencies and national governments. In India, for instance, where the ministries for education and culture, are key sources of funds for scholars wanting to travel to international conferences, a ‘commission’ that is linked to or seen as part of the UNESCO family improves the chances of a prospective grant application.
At the 20th International Congress of History of Science, Liège, Belgium, the DHST General Assembly approved the formation of the commission. In the words of Deepak Kumar, the first President of the Sciences and Empires Commission:
“There would be 1,000 people in the General Assembly. I made a presentation that lasted 5-10 minutes. The President and the Executive committee of the Congress were convinced of the importance of such a Commission. Robert Halleux was the President and General Secretary of the Congress at that time.”
Changes, and the Present
From at least 2002, the newsletters gave way to an “unmoderated” mail list. The ‘Sciences and Empires Groupe’ opened to all (emphasis mine) who were interested in the topic but its major purpose was to serve as the major forum for discussions by historians, philosophers, and sociologists of science, technology and medicine who study how these activities intersect with colonialism, imperialism and postcolonialism. ‘It will also serve as the newsletter distribution list,’ the introduction to this subscriber list notes.
What’s immediately discernible was that even as the network adopted the technology that most communication networks were migrating to, it sought to reach out to groups beyond the “network of scholars” that the newsletters targeted. Michael Osborne, at the University of California, Santa Barbara, was the pivot of this subscriber list. In 2004, Osborne, Silvia Figueirôa (Brazil) and Togo Tsukahara (Japan) reported that the website of the ‘Sciences and Empires groupe’ was active. The list posted job announcements, and news of funding and travel fellowships and post-doctoral opportunities. Attempts to review relevant books in consistent fashion were not successful. The list also served to keep members posted about the group’s meetings at forthcoming Congresses in Beijing, Budapest, Manchester, Rio de Janeio and to invite joint proposals for sessions and request help with research topics. Many members on the list spoke of it as being extremely valuable to their career and there were non-subscribers too who kept themselves apprised of research themes within SCIEMP.
Cristiana Bastos, at the Institute of Social Sciences-University of Lisbon, said that she was a regular recipient of the email lists for “years” and they were “extremely inspirational” for her research interests in colonial medicine. She told me in an email “... I worked on colonial medicine at a time when there were not that many people doing it, especially outside the sphere related to the former British Empire. The literature, authors, topics etc addressed in SCIEMP were really spot on.” John Mathew, at the Indian Institute of Science, Education and Research, Pune, told me that his personal friendships with several members of the SCIEMP and interests in the history of zoology has him follow developments in the field. Mathew took part in one of several science and empires sessions at the Rio DHST Congress in July 2017.
For all that the science and empires group managed to achieve, in the last few decades, in terms of creating a research area it has had limited success in reaching out to scholars beyond universities in Western Europe, the Americas and, to some extent, Japan. While the subject of science and empires found echo in the Subaltern studies movement of the 80s and 90s, it hasn’t led to a sizeable number of students in Indian universities, for example, who’ve mined primary sources in non-English sources to channel new lines of enquiry contesting popular narratives of science that is still, at least in popular discourse or at the level of school curricula, dominated by European triumphalism. Kumar attributes this to the lack of jobs for professional historians of science. A student of history or a student of English may find a post in a university, but in all these years, it has been hard to introduce a single paper on the subject, at the Master’s level examination, Kumar told me. The SCIEMP membership leans on national committees to lend vigour as well financial support to keep the body moving. Given that entirely new forms of technological empires—gestated in Silicon Valley--now influence the global circulation of finance and and knowledge. SCIEMP too is looking for new venues and new partnerships to inspire more scholars and keep it buoyant for its next 20 years and beyond. At the Rio de Janeiro DHST Congress in 2017, one of the sessions—organised by Dr. Jahnavi Phalkey and Dr. Niklas Thod Jensen—was focussed on identifying new ways to study Science and Empire to include empires beyond Europe and to consider histories of the American, Chinese, Japanese and Soviet Empires. In expanding the scope of study, it is hoped that among other things, there would be critical re-look at how knowledge circulated among individuals and communities and to what extent it shuttled between these groups and colonisers. Further how much, and why, some of this knowledge came to be elevated as ‘science’ and why some didn’t make the cut.
References:
- Rahman, A. “Problems and Perspectives.” Science and Empire: Essays in Indian Context, 1700-1947 (1991)
- Petitjean, P.,& Jami, C. (1992). Science and Empires: Historical Studies about Scientifical Development and European Expansion (Vol 136). Springer Science and Business Media
Acknowledgements: The author wishes to thank Deepak Kumar, Patrick Petitjean, Cristiana Bastos, John Mathew for help with sourcing primary material, and for taking time out for interviews. Special thanks to Jahnavi Phalkey, President, SCIEMP, for conceiving the need for this essay and introductions.