The Power of Definitions
Pre-Furedi Reflections on Colonialism
Colonialism is fundamentally about superiority—asserting dominance through economic control, political influence, and cultural imposition. During the Cold War, for instance, the West sought to block communism’s spread in Africa, using financial and diplomatic leverage to secure allies. Beyond material exploitation, colonialism reinforced a hierarchy in which Western powers—armed with resources, technology, and highly educated elites—imposed their vision of stability and progress. More often than not, that promised stability never materialized, leaving behind political and social upheaval instead.
Power was not wielded solely by colonial authorities but also by local intermediaries—individuals who aligned themselves with Western rule in exchange for influence and personal gain. Colonial powers relied heavily on these figures, enforcing policies through indirect rule. At the same time, they redrew national borders with little regard for existing cultural, linguistic, and tribal realities. The lasting consequences of these arbitrary divisions continue to fuel conflicts today.
In the modern era, the legacy of colonialism is no longer confined to Western influence alone. “Neo-colonialism” takes on new forms, as seen in China’s growing presence in Africa. China is carving out a significant role in many African nations through infrastructure projects, business expansion, and cultural initiatives like Confucius Institutes.
My observations and beliefs about colonialism have been shaped by my experience living in a formerly French-colonized country. The lingering effects of colonialism manifest in what I would categorize as an identity crisis, where former colonies retain aspects of their colonizer—such as language and governmental systems—while remaining deeply rooted in indigenous traditions.
In Mauritania, I have witnessed firsthand how individuals navigate this layered identity. French education and cultural influences remain deeply ingrained, yet a distinctly Mauritanian identity persists, shaped by local traditions, languages, religion, and customs.
At the same time, many post-colonial nations continue to grapple with economic and political dependence on Western aid while forging new relationships with emerging global powers like China.
Post-Furedi Reflections
What did I already know? As I read Furedi’s The War Against the Past: Why the West Must Fight for its History, I was once again struck by the profound importance of definitions and how we use them. Furedi’s critique of the redefinition of terms like decolonization reaffirmed my suspicion that words are often used carelessly, with little regard for their true meaning. This focus on shifting definitions reminded me of Deneen’s critique of the modern interpretation of liberty, which he argues is deeply flawed, and Eve Poole’s exploration of what it truly means to be human. These terms, once clear, have become elusive, convoluted, and difficult to articulate.
Furedi frequently engages with the term decolonization—a term I initially struggled to understand in its current context. His usage of the word seemed disconnected from my own understanding, leaving me wondering, “When will he address the departure of Western powers from colonized territories?” His text read less like a historical account and more like a cultural critique.
To clarify my confusion, I turned to literature on the United Nations’ use of the term. In 2012, an article titled Finishing the Job: The UN Special Committee on Decolonization and the Politics of Self-Governance explored the implementation of the 1960 UN Declaration on the Granting of Independence to Colonial Countries and Peoples (DGICCP). I reference this article not to debate the committee’s legitimacy, but to examine how the term decolonization is framed by the UN. According to the article, decolonization was framed as the transfer of power back to indigenous governments.[1] However, there seems to be a more ambiguous use of the term today. As Furedi writes, “Decolonization today is no longer about gaining freedom and independence from the influence of colonial power.”[2]
How was I challenged? One of Furedi’s most compelling arguments is that “History can never be reversed, and an identity based on the experience of victimization, injustice, and trauma cannot be ‘reconciled.’”[3] This left me thinking, “If we define ourselves primarily by our historical wounds, what kind of healing does that offer?” It seems that our relationship with history plays a crucial role in our ability to heal. I think of how we approach healing childhood wounds—a complex process that typically involves acknowledgment and validation, therapy, the need for healthy relationships, rewriting the narrative, and, most importantly, forgiveness and letting go. This healing journey is not reflected in how we relate to history. The point is, we must confront the uncomfortable truths.
The ongoing Hamas-Israeli conflict is never far from my mind. Recently, I had a conversation with a friend who shared, “I have grown up with the Palestinians’ suffering, and I cannot stand with Israel.” While I deeply empathize with her pain and understand the region’s complexities, I can’t help but wonder: Does this perspective leave room for healing? Similarly, as I read Furedi, I asked myself: How do we move beyond definitions that keep us trapped in cycles of victimization? How does waging a war against the past foster reconciliation?
Furthermore, I found myself challenged by Furedi’s own intellectual evolution. Much of the book echoed a Deneen-esque tone, so I was intrigued to learn more about him. In an interview with the Institute of Art and Ideas, Furedi expressed his surprise at his recent focus on the culture wars—an area he never imagined he would engage with. Furedi’s intellectual journey began on the far left, where he was once a Trotskyist. However, as political dynamics have shifted, he now believes that the traditional categories of left and right, or far-left and far-right, have become largely irrelevant—what he calls “zombie categories.”[4] Over time, Furedi has come to see the preservation of certain values and traditions as essential to Western civilization, aligning himself with the classical liberal ideals he views as fundamental. A product of the 1960s, he remains deeply committed to the pursuit of freedom.
Lastly, I was challenged by Furedi’s exploration of concepts like moral anachronism, presentism, and Year Zero—ideas I hadn’t encountered before. These terms sparked my curiosity, and I’m eager to study them further.
Furedi’s The War Against the Past examines how we interpret and engage with history, particularly in the context of contemporary social and political issues. He argues that an identity rooted in victimization cannot be reconciled, raising critical questions about healing and progress. If we remain fixated on past injustices, we risk missing the opportunity for genuine healing. This highlights the need to confront uncomfortable truths and move beyond entrenched narratives.
[1] Oliver Turner, “‘Finishing the Job’: The UN Special Committee on Decolonization and the Politics of Self-Governance,” Third World Quarterly 34, no. 7 (2013): 1193-1208, https://www.jstor.org/stable/42002185. Accessed February 13, 2025.
[2] Frank Furedi, The War Against the Past: Why the West Must Fight for Its History (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2023), 6, Kindle Edition.
[3] Frank Furedi, 228, Kindle Edition
[4] Frank Furedi, “Why Do Culture Wars Matter?,” YouTube video, 1:13:29, posted by Institute of Art and Ideas, October 16, 2020, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Y2lTNbcZ1Y.
About the Author
Elysse Burns
14 responses to “The Power of Definitions”
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Elysse,
Of the three new concepts that you mentioned, moral anachronism, presentism, and Year Zero, is there one that you would like to understand more? Dive in a bit deeper?
Hi Adam, I would definitely like to study presentism more. I think it has crept into the church and how we view the Bible and church history. Many struggle with certain biblical narratives because they approach them through a present-day lens. I think this has caused some damage. However, this is merely an observation I have made, and I can’t say if this thought has any legitimacy.
Hi Elysse, Your quote of Furedi about identity being based on victimization can not be reconciled, made me think of all the people today who are living in that space and can’t forgive and move forward for whatever caused their victimhood. Do you have a recommendation of what you could share with the person who is stuck there?
Hi Diane, First, I would take the time to understand where the person is emotionally and mentally. I’ve noticed that some individuals consciously choose to stay in a state of victimhood, clinging to resentment. However, I’ve also realized that others aren’t choosing it so much as they feel stuck, simply because they don’t know another way forward.
Psychologist Martin Seligman’s research on learned helplessness helped me understand this better. He found that humans often default to helplessness when they believe they have no control over their circumstances. The key to breaking free is realizing that they do have agency.
With that in mind, my first response to someone in this state would be to gently remind them that they are not powerless—and that they don’t have to remain in a cycle of victimhood.
Hi Elysee,
I like how you framed this statement. ‘In Mauritania, I have witnessed firsthand how individuals navigate this layered identity. French education and cultural influences remain deeply ingrained, yet a distinctly Mauritanian identity persists, shaped by local traditions, languages, religion, and customs.’ “Layered identify” – I feel this is me.
Since you are aware of the existence of layered identity in Mauritania, how to you integrate Christ into a community that is predominantly Sunni Islam?
Hi Shela, You ask a fantastic question. My approach with people is facilitating a conversation about Christ and allowing the individual to decide what to do with the information. There are many “how-to” methods for engaging Muslims, but I always want my engagement to be authentic relationships, not superior knowledge or manipulation.
I appreciate your clarity on the shifting definition of ‘Decolonization’ that Furedi is arguing against. It is not simply the removal of power, but the total renunciation of the harms of our Colonial past through ideologies like Year Zero. Anything less in this framing of decolonization leads us to continue to assert power.
But I wonder what sociological, and cultural-anthropological impact Mauritanians yet experience from the Colonial era as a deep, baked-in-the-culture way. For instance, is there a deference to France? Related to your NPO, is there an increased helplessness to frame their own development, or are they hamstrung by the ongoing presence of foreign aid?
Thanks for your post.
Hi Joel, I’ve noticed a strong deference to the West in many aspects of life here, but when it comes to religion, Saudi Arabia holds significant influence. It’s a fascinating dynamic. Lately, I’ve also observed a growing desire to distance from France—such as reconsidering French as an official language—yet the country remains tethered by the continued presence of foreign aid.
I’ve spent years studying this, particularly in the context of Mauritania, and yet I still feel as though I’ve only begun to scratch the surface.
Hi Elysse, this was a fantastic post. You wrote a bit about the identity crisis that comes with colonialism. At my organization, we work with minority language communities in language development, Bible translation, and Scripture engagement. One area of language development is language revitalization, which is an effort to increase and expand language usage when the community has shifted to another language, often a language of wider communication. This may be a language of wider communication imposed by colonialism.
As you experience firsthand in your host country, it is not easy to reverse the tidal wave of colonialism that has a long history in the culture. For some language communities, by the time they realize how much their language has shifted to another, it is too late to reverse.
Do you think it is more difficult for communities to heal and reconcile when some of the negative effects of colonialism are irreversible?
Hi Christy, You ask an excellent question. The following thoughts are not fully worked out, but they are always spinning around in my mind. Something I really appreciated in your post this week, was the acknowledgment that colonialism did bring the gospel. This is key. I believe the Holy Spirit can heal communities regardless of colonialism’s effects. But as you stated, I also think it is a challenging, long journey. I am not sure if there will be full healing in this lifetime. Concerning language, we have noticed here in North Africa that some people are more open to discussing faith in a language other than their mother tongue. We think, perhaps, it removes them from the “pressures” faced by their culture to only speak about certain things. However, this is an observation. It might not have any relevance. With that being said, this might be an example of the effects of colonialism making pathways to healing (freedom to speak). Again, these are just thoughts.
Elysse, you highlight how definitions of decolonization have shifted from the UN’s original framework of political self-governance to a broader cultural critique. Given Furedi’s argument that an identity based on historical victimization cannot lead to true reconciliation, how can societies acknowledge past injustices without becoming trapped in cycles of resentment?
Hi Chad,
You’ve asked a great question. It keeps bringing me back to how we approach healing—much like recovering from childhood wounds. Acknowledgment is an essential first step, but true healing requires much more. It involves healthy relationships, rewriting the narrative, and, most importantly, forgiveness and the ability to let go.
We often do well in recognizing past wrongs, but moving beyond acknowledgment toward real restoration is where we struggle. Healing is an active, ongoing process; without those next steps, we risk remaining stuck in the past rather than stepping into renewal.
That’s why I believe we must keep encouraging people that they don’t have to remain trapped in a cycle of victimhood. In response to Diane, I shared some insights from psychologist Martin Seligman. His research found that people often default to helplessness when they believe they have no control over their circumstances. The key to breaking free is realizing that they do have agency.
With that in mind, my first response to someone in this state would be a gentle reminder: they are not powerless. They have the ability to move forward, to reclaim their story, and to step into healing.
Elysse, Thank you for this thought-provoking post. Your comments on Furedi’s perspective victimization and lack of reconciliation had me pondering some things. As I read your post it made me wonder how deeply pride is involved in the victimization cycle. When we take victim mindsets, we feel wronged and undeserving of the harm done to us (and often that is true). It seems that this is a prideful position that keeps us from seeking true healing. It made me think of Mark 2:17 and Jesus’ comment how the sick are the ones who need a doctor. Thank you for the reminder to be proactive to seek healing and not to stay in a prideful state of a sick victim.
Thank you, Elysse. I always enjoy your posts. Given that you are in a formerly French-colonized land, and you are studying things like colonization, AND you were raised in the U.S., what type of nuances do you experience (spoken or unspoken) in Mauritania that you correlate with the U.S.? How does it make you feel in the space where you currently live?