Abstract
In 2004, Anna Agathangelou and L.H.M. Ling wrote their important intervention, entitled ‘The House of IR: From Family Power Politics to the Poises of Worldism,’ that ordered various theories of International Relations within an analogy of a colonial household, calling instead for a Worldism that builds communities based on interests and support. One glaring omission from this analysis, however, is mention of indigeneity. Increasingly, in North America, the experiences of Indigenous peoples are shaping national imaginations and popular political discourses – take for instance Idle No More, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada, Standing Rock, and Mauna Kea, to name a few. These shifts seen at a national level in North America, however, are not fully reflected in the field of IR. In fact, it would be easy to conclude that the field of IR has largely ignored Indigenous lived-experience. To this, this article asks how IR theorising, practice, and pedagogy could be significantly transformed by taking seriously Indigenous experiences and knowledge? To explore this question, this article explores the two central IR concepts of power and sovereignty to illustrate how the meanings and practices of these concepts are significantly furthered by attention to Indigenous experiences, practices, and knowledge. It concludes by asserting that an Indigenous approach to IR would not only be a mechanism for incisive analysis and critique of dominant constructions within the field, but also could provide an emergent space for (re)imagining collective futures across race and difference – something sorely needed in a world of ever increasing uncertainty.
The metaphor of a colonial house is a powerful analogy to map the hegemonic configuration of International Relations (IR) theory, particularly the centrality of a few dominant theories over those relegated to the margins. This conceptual mapping provides a landscape in which to order critical interventions and, more importantly, compel a forceful examination of the erasures and blind spots within IR. The metaphor of a colonial household comes from the critical intervention ‘The House of IR: From Family Power Politics to the Poises of Worldism’ by Anna Agathangelou and L.H.M. Ling. 1 The following uses the analogy of a colonial household to situate the power dynamics between various IR theories. The result of this analogy is that IR resembles an international order, or ‘civilization,’ characterised by adversarialism, opposition, and dominance. In this model, anarchy and power politics are the rule and not the exception. These assumptions of nation-state behaviour, therefore, justifies the imposition of so-called order, an order achieved within a House of IR by ‘appropriating the knowledge, resources, and labor of racialized, sexualized Others for its own benefit and pleasure while announcing itself the sole producer – the father –of our world.’ 2 The question this article poses then is: Where are Indigenous peoples (and thought) within the House framework? From this question, the article then explores how IR can be destabilised, expanded, and remapped through an offering of an Indigenous research paradigm that foregrounds grounded normativity and relationality. 3
In Agathangelou and Ling’s colonial household, Father Realism is the head of the household. Defined by state self-interest and power politics, its intellectual lineage are the all-too-familiar works of Thucydides, Machiavelli, and Hobbes, to more contemporary scholars such as George K. Kennan, Walter Lippmann, and Hans J. Morgenthau. Mother Liberalism is a natural ally to realism. Where realism concerns itself with state power, liberalism organises state power by focusing on the market and interests. Free trade, open markets, and global capitalism reinforce state control over the international system, linking together politics and economics. The Caretaking Daughters of neoliberalism, liberal feminism, and standpoint feminism are the ‘good daughters’ of the House of IR and ‘exhibit wonderful caretaking traits.’ 4 Neoliberalism addresses the realist dilemma by asserting economic interdependence as a means of cooperation, while the other two incorporate understandings of gender into networks of cooperation or deploy missionary authoritarianism in ways that serve realism and liberalism. Neorealism, with its zero-sum logics, acts as the Bastard Heir who are perpetually insecure and view others as competition for resources and legitimacy. These are those who make up the main floor, the main quarters.
Upstairs you find the Rebel Sons, all offering disruptions to the House and consisting of Marxism, Gramscian International Political, and Postmodern IR, among others. Marxists challenged the House with their world systems contentions, Gramscians exposed hegemonies in international political economy, postmodernists put forward a third debate, and constructivism offered a linguistic turn. 5 The Rebel Sons challenge Father Realism’s authority and are a creation of Mother Liberalism’s ‘youthful fling with an old ‘mentor,’ critical theory.’ 6 Also upstairs are the Fallen Daughters of postmodern feminism and queer studies. Straying away from the House’s center by showing how gender and sexuality is constructed to privilege an imperial, colonial, and heterosexual order. 7 In this way, they expose the House’s ‘secret lusts and unrequited desires.’ 8
In the basement are the quarters of the Native Informant Servants – native referring to arising from a specific location, not Native American peoples. These servants, consisting of area studies and comparative politics experts, gather ethnographic data and localised knowledge to be used by those upstairs. IR has historically looked down at comparative politics, seeing it merely as a method (comparison) and not of serious substance. 9 Other theories in the basement (or on the border) are the Bastard Ward of Asian capitalism and the Bastard Twins of peripheral and transitional economies. Lastly, outside the House, or as they refer to them as ‘hovering’ outside, are the Love Children of orientalism and postcolonial IR and, though both do not seek acceptance, they do share a ‘clear lineage with members of the House.’ 10 Those outside challenge and critique the House, particularly its constructions of race, class, and gender. It is this outside space where Agathangelou and Ling locate their framework of Worldism, a framework that examines the foundations, borders, members, and normative values of the House. It recognises a multiplicity of worlds and the need to negotiate across difference in the creation of communities. In fact, ‘Worldism challenges the very project of constructing IR as a ‘house’ in the first place.’ 11
So where are the Indigenous peoples in Agathangelou and Ling’s House of IR? And what is IR missing by not being attentive to Indigenous peoples? Karena Shaw asserts, ‘Indigenous peoples provide a microcosm in which one can see elements of struggle faced by a large percentage of the world’s population,’ struggles that are often at the margins of political science and IR. 12 One can imagine Indigenous peoples living outside the House, living in relationship to the land with a tipi or a sweatlodge, or even, as is often the grim reality, underneath the house in the soil. 13 Being located outside the House, Indigenous peoples would not be ‘hovering;’ instead, they would be connected in relationship to the land. or what Glen Coulthard calls grounded normativity. ‘It is a profound misunderstanding to think of land or place as simply some material object of profound importance to Indigenous cultures (although it is this too),’ explains, continuing, ‘Instead it ought to be understood as a field of ‘relationships of things to each other’.’ 14
Offering new foundations in which to challenge the metaphor of the House, this article turns to the figure of the tipi. For many of the tribes of the Great Plains, tipis offered mobility in construction, as well as a dwelling that could withstand the most inclement of storms. Its construction, with its 12 poles, is methodical, standing in for nothing less than a recreation of a nation, an entire worldview. 15 The first three poles are oriented with precision to point to constellations which constitute a centering star. The next seven poles correspond to the seven sacred directions – north, south, east, west, above, below, and inward – providing further orientation with the land, the Creator, and within one’s self. The last two poles control ventilation (so the spirit and the family can breathe in and out), as well as representing the arms of a mother wrapping her family in safety and comfort. Every element of the structure is intentional, both in practical and spiritual terms – the tipi entry way is oriented towards the East, not only because you can meet the Creator with the first light, but also because storms are known to come from the West.
This article continues in three parts: (1) an exploration of indigeneity in IR, (2) what it would mean for IR to take seriously Indigenous peoples and thought, or ‘Indigenous (re)presencing,’ and (3) the proposing of parameters to an Indigenous IR research paradigm, or in a continuance of the House metaphor, identifying new lodge poles for a new dwelling. For this article I draw upon my experiences with the Lakota of the Great Plains in the US to suggest ‘tipi poles of IR,’ or a foundation to build a new approach to IR research. This third section is further divided into describing an Indigenous IR research paradigm that consists of convictions of worldview, ontology, epistemology, and axiology. 16 These lodge poles can not only assist in reimagining IR scholarship, but they can also provide a means of (re)creating an entire worldview, one that is more inclusive and reciprocal. It concludes with an exploration of how such a shift would open new spaces of IR theorising, or ‘theorizing from the land.’ Before turning to this, however, I will explain how I have come to ask questions.
From Where I Write
I am a racialised body in the United States who is both a product of colonial forces and a producer of colonial displacements. My family comes from an Indigenous region of the Philippines and relocated at a specific colonial moment, while in the present day I make my home and build my career on Native territory and at the expense of the continued displacement of both the Ohlone and Pokagon peoples. While trained in IR and publishing and speaking to the subfield, I often do not teach IR, finding myself instead in interdisciplinary and intersectional spaces within departments of Ethnic Studies, Peace Studies, and Critical Theory and Social Justice. From my personal experience of all my formal education, I had never seen my experiences represented within the classroom or within any curriculum. The way I approached scholarship with little separation between theory, action, community, and creativity often put me at odds with graduate advisors and chairs – I was told early that I had to choose between being an academic or activist filmmaker. 17 My position at the margins of IR, therefore, is the position in which I write. Being located at the margin not only provides a wide perspective to look back at the centre, but it also provides a vantage point to better see beyond, to turn away from the centre and have a better view of the furthest horizons.
The following is not meant to be an authoritative nor comprehensive explication of indigeneity and IR, nor is it meant to represent a pan- (or simplified/unified) understanding of indigeneity or Native experience. It would not be my place to adopt such a scope, but even more than that, it would not be desirable nor even possible. In the US alone, there are some 574 federally recognised Native tribes, with a few hundred more unrecognised tribes. This is in the US only, not to mention the great diversity of Indigenous peoples in Canada and Mexico. It is not possible to have a singular or definitive ‘Indigenous approach’ to IR research. Such a framework would not be desirable, as others have shown authoritative definitions of groups of people can lead to further harm and vulnerabilities. 18 Accordingly, this article acts as a personal explication of an attempt to weave together Indigenous thought and experiences with the fraught space of IR. 19
It draws from a North American (and more specifically US and Canadian) vantage point of indigeneity to further efforts of inclusion and to point to new possibilities for IR. What may seem like a centering of US and Canada is in no way meant to be taken as a diminishment of other global Indigenous experiences and thought, nor is it a comment on the importance of Indigenous-oriented work being done throughout Latin America, South and Southeast Asia, and parts of Europe. There are many important centres of Indigenous thought around the world. This focus is, in fact, a reflection of the limitations of the author. My teaching, research, and the communities I think with are all located within the US and Canada. I hope to see increasing numbers of diverse voices within IR pushing the bounds of what the subfield can and should be, including Indigenous navigations and perspectives generated from all around the world.
Section 1: Indigeneity in IR
IR is a political science subfield that has not only had a difficult time coming to terms with race and difference, but has also held animus towards Indigenous peoples. 20 The ways that Indigenous peoples engage and understanding international relations ‘challenge[s] the dominant state-centric system to include their different ways of understanding and structuring relations not just between peoples, but with the natural world and the planet.’ 21 They can foreground differing worldviews, ontologies, epistemologies, and axiologies. The following highlights IR contributions that have foregrounded Indigenous experiences and thought and explicitly place their intervention within IR. Identifying three manuscripts that explicitly locate themselves within IR, there is a recognition that many other manuscripts should be in conversation with IR, as well as many others located somewhere near or at the margins of the global politics, international studies, and/or Indigenous studies spaces. 22 Rather than attempting to discern whether certain scholars and scholarship engage IR, I highlight a few manuscripts that shed light on various aspects of the Indigenous research paradigm put forward in this article. The first of the three was written nearly 30 years ago, while the latest five years ago. This also serves as an illustration of how few IR scholars are engaging Indigenous thought and experiences.
In 1993 Frankie Wilmer wrote The Indigenous Voice in World Politics, one of the first IR interventions that foregrounds indigeneity. She showed how a Western-based international system homogenised global culture in the name of modernisation and progress and which led to the ethnocide of Indigenous peoples. Pointing to a shared set of experiences between post-colonial states and Indigenous peoples, Wilmer suggests that both have potential to disrupt and decenter Western political and cultural hegemony. The significant challenge IR faces in her perspective is that the international system is premised on the fraught relationship between Indigenous peoples and national governments. ‘Indigenous activism challenges the normative basis of international politics by asserting that the rights of sovereignty essential in order for a people to control their own political and economic development do not belong exclusively to nation-states emulating the European model,’ explains Wilmer. 23
Years later, in 2005, J. Marshall Beier published International Relations in Uncommon Places: Indigeneity, Cosmology, and the Limit of International Theory. This work explores how IR has failed to take notice of Indigenous peoples, thus furthering the colonial narratives of North America. Focusing primarily on the Lakota of the Great Plains, Beier focuses on security and cosmology as a way of illustrating the potential of foregrounding Indigenous experiences. Aside from a firm conviction of the recognition of the possibility of (and the need for) learning from the so-called margins, this work is guided by a set of ethical principles that are foregrounded and made clear. Beier asserts, This is not a call, however, to bring Indigenous people(s)’ voices into International Relations, as this would make the paternalistic mistake of presuming a responsibility for them rather than a responsibility to them. The former stance suggests that we think their knowledges our wards, with little value independent of our own interventions; the latter we think them the equals of our own. Thus, appropriation of Indigenous knowledges in ways that make them fit harmoniously with the dominating society’s predetermined concepts and categories is also an exercise in their devaluation – in fitting in, after all, they will only have confirmed what was already ‘known.’ Such appropriations may thus be counted among the practices of advanced colonialism.
24
Ten years after Beier’s intervention was Sheryl Lightfoot’s Global Indigenous Politics: A Subtle Revolution. 25 Lightfoot, a citizen of the Lake Superior Band of Ojibwe, focuses on the 2007 United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP) as a foundational shift in global politics, pointing to a ‘transformational norm vector’ which challenges and erodes the core concepts of the dominant international order. UNDRIP, Lightfoot asserts, ‘Helps points the way toward a new and infinitely more fair, just and hopeful global future.’ 26 The fact that collective rights (of Indigenous peoples) were recognised on such an international institutional scale represents a major shift in asserting Indigenous rights and values on the global arena.
Complementing these book manuscripts are a series of other works focusing on indigeneity in IR and, though they have been located primarily on the margins of IR discourse, they have focused on a variety of central IR themes. Themes such as Indigenous perspectives in IR, IR as a site of Indigenous resistance, Indigenous philosophies, knowledge and pedagogy, Indigenous experiences influencing multi-layered arrangements of sovereignty and political arrangements, Indigenous and postcolonial sovereignties, relational sovereignty and governance, Sami self-determination in Finland and Norway, warfighting and conflict, Indigeneity and democracy, international institutions, International society, Indigenous diplomatic spaces foregrounding women and challenging global politics, diplomacy, activism, and treaty-making, territorial expansion, structure-agent debates, environmental justice, and Indigenous security and securitisation. There is also a significant amount of scholarship on global Indigenous rights, with many of these focused on navigations of the international order by Indigenous peoples. 27
Section 2: Indigenous (Re)Presencing
Indigeneity has been largely related to the margins of political discourse. 28 The reasons for this are multiple and nuanced. Have Native and Indigenous peoples been merely overlooked or is there an active animosity towards Indigenous peoples? In 2016, the American Political Science Association had a Reflections Symposium that provocatively asks: why does political science hate American Indians? The lack of Indigenous experiences and thought in political science is not a function of ignorance, but an intentional act of avoidance. Ferguson suggests, ‘Indigenous patterns of thought overtly oppose many of the values that United States presumes: the legitimacy of majoritarian democracy, the primacy of sovereignty, the rule of law, and especially American exceptionalism.’ 29 Indigenous thought directly undermines the hegemonic international order, an order built upon US leadership.
This incommensurability (of Native thought to political science and IR theory and practice) would suggest that an ‘Indigenous IR’ would necessarily find its lineage outside of the dominant House theories. 30 While this is true, not all Indigenous-oriented IR has looked to supplant the current international order. For instance, Lightfoot shows how UNDRIP foregrounds communal rights (rather than individual rights) as a ‘subtle revolution’ in international institutions. 31 Though Native thought is incommensurable to Western European political thought in many ways, bringing Indigenous insights into IR theorising can further existing theories and traditions. To forcibly ask questions about Indigenous exclusions from a vantage point of North America, and more specifically the United States, takes on a unique settler context.
This focus here is on US-based (and North American) indigeneity for no other reason than that is where I am located and have the most experience. That said, the US is a centre of IR theorising, where scholars interested in anything outside of the US / Western Europe framework are relegated to comparativism rather than IR. It is this North American context that settler colonialism has come to embody a unique configuration of erasure and violence. Despite this, Indigenous people are still present. Whether through street names, foods eaten, or within the memory of the land, Native peoples were never removed from the landscape, their presence has never been erased.
The construction of American identity has been forever intertwined with paradoxical and complex renderings of Native peoples, at once crafting them as symbol of unbridled American freedom, while simultaneously villainising them as savage and barbaric and thus in need of eradication. 32 For instance, boy scouting organisations of the early 1900s adopted Native narratives and imagery to signify excellence in scouting, comprised of characteristics such as independence, valour, and bravery. Youth scouting, itself, was created to prepare young boys for civic and military service, making it ironic that the Declaration of Independence describes Native people at the ‘frontiers’ as ‘merciless Indian Savages, whose known rule of warfare, is an undistinguished destruction, of all ages, sexes and conditions.’ American revolutionaries carried out the rebellious act of the Boston Tea Party while donning crude Native headwear and costumes and yet, soon after, the removal of Native peoples from the east westward beyond the Mississippi River was central to the American project.
Two observations come from a brief view of American history: Native peoples were never seen or treated as full human beings and, despite that, have always been present – they were never fully eradicated. Native historian Don Fixico provides context, explaining that though the twentieth century had brought great progress to humanity, it also was ‘one of the most destructive eras of imperialist oppression and blatant exploitation of peoples.’ 33 Since the twentieth century, Indigenous peoples have suffered tremendously, seeing large scale population declines, cultural assimilation, and ethnic cleansing. ‘Yet in America,’ Fixico explains, ‘Something drastic has happened: the vanishing race of the late nineteenth century chose not to disappear.’ 34
This could also be said about IR. Take for instance the work of Neta Crawford and her work on security communities, particularly the Iroquois League of five Native nations that took place from 1450 to 1777. 35 Citing Immanuel Kant’s notion of perpetual peace, Crawford shows that many of the foundational concepts of democracy, security regimes, and diplomacy were present and operational in different forms within an Indigenous context and between nations. If IR were based on Iroquois history, rather than European history, Crawford asks if we could imagine something different for IR theorising? ‘While the history of the Iroquois League can only begin to open the door to analysis of international relations in other cultures,’ Crawford asserts, ‘This small extension of the historical and cultural domain of international relations scholarship shows that international systems based on different premises (belief systems) do not necessarily conform to realist predictions about state behavior.’ 36 Indigenous political practices were never erased, they simply have been overlooked or ignored by IR.
Indigenous Resurgence
There is also, however, a distinct stream of Indigenous thought that actively locates itself outside of the lineage within the dominant theory of the House. Indigenous resurgence, with its intellectual origin in Taiaiake Alfred’s 2009 work Wasáse: Indigenous Pathways of Action and Freedom and forwarded primarily by scholars located in Canada, has been a robust intellectual paradigm that acts to shift Indigenous consciousness ‘away from reconciliation and towards decolonization.’ 37 To achieve this, resurgence calls for a regeneration of Indigenous spiritual, cultural, and political practices that will provide the individual and collective strength to challenge oppressive (settler) structures. 38
Resurgence as a ‘set of practices through which the regeneration and reestablishment of Indigenous nations could be achieved’ can be seen as a response to Audre Lorde’s well-known assertion, ‘The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house. They may allow us temporarily to beat him at his own game, but they will never enable us to bring about genuine change.’ 39 Settler political practices and structures have created the very conditions of inequality in which Indigenous peoples find themselves; thus, merely working towards a politics of recognition would prove to be insufficient in bringing about substantive structural changes. Resurgence emphasises internal revitalisation that is cognizant, but not dependent upon, exogenous conditions. Leanne Simpson explains, ‘In essence, we need to not just figure who we are; we need to re-establish the processes by which we live who we are within the current context we find ourselves. We do not need funding to do this. We do not need opportunity to do this. We need our Elders, our languages, and our lands, along with vision, intent, commitment, community and ultimately, action.’ 40 They are positive enactments of ‘another modality of being.’ 41
Indigenous resurgence as an intellectual paradigm is not dependent on the dominant intellectual traditions of the House; rather, by looking inward it allows for imagining something beyond the dominant Western political practices and conventions. It challenges the framework of the colonial household because, through aschewing the politics of recognition, it looks beyond the House and the very rules it seeks to impose. It calls for not a mere remodelling or interior addition, but rather a remapping of the location of the House in relation to preexisting structures, peoples, and practices.
Section 3: Tipi Poles of IR
What would it look like if IR were to take indigeneity seriously? The answer to this should not be easy, nor singular – even the marker of ‘indigenous’ itself is contested, not to mention the vast diversity of Native, First Nations, and/or Indigenous experiences. 42 Instead, what I will offer are characteristics of what it could look like, what I would consider an Indigenous IR research paradigm. It is crafted from my own experiences learning from and collaborating Native, First Nations, and Indigenous individuals and communities in South Dakota and across North America; teaching about indigeneity and decolonising methodologies; as well as my own experiences with the shortcomings and blind spots of IR.
Moving away from demarcated rooms, stacked hierarchically, and arranged in location to proximity to power, a tipi of IR would suggest a more relational flow of bodies, heat, breath, and smoke. A structure that, by necessity, imbues values of respect, community, and interdependence. Living in a shared space requires a thoughtfulness and consideration that must be both inclusive and have a shared commitment to a collective wellbeing. The tipi forms a symbol known in Lakota as kapemni, or twisting. The triangle of the tipi creates another inverted tipi when the poles are extended upward towards the sky. This mirroring captures the inherent sacredness of this figure – a physical representation that connects the earthly with the spiritual. It is a physical representation of a distinct worldview, a distinct ontology, one that is, at its core, represented by an inherent connectedness of all living and nonliving entities. A tipi is not marked by demarcation, but rather, by interconnectedness, an interconnectedness that makes possible new questions and the challenging of settler colonial structures.
Indigenous IR Research Paradigm
A paradigm is a ‘set of beliefs about the world and about gaining knowledge that goes together to guide people’s actions as to how they are going to go about doing their research.’ 43 Indigenising a Western concept such as research carries with it many challenges, least of which is adhering to rigid definitional categories and the limitations of translations of concepts and language, not to mention that many Indigenous peoples transmitted Indigenous ways of knowing orally. 44 That said, because this article is for IR scholars and not Indigenous communities, the aim here is to provide a space for Indigenous politics to become more intelligible. My understanding of an Indigenous research paradigm for IR is founded upon from the work of Linda Tuhiwai Smith who calls social science researchers to acknowledge and actively resist the racist history of scientific inquiry and Shawn Wilson who emphasises the relational, spiritual, and ceremonial aspects of Indigenous aspects of research. 45 This paradigm includes the categories of worldview, ontology, epistemology, methodology, and axiology and, as you will notice, they are not cleanly separable with many overlaps and intertwinings. 46
Throughout every element of this proposed framework should be an attentiveness to power dynamics. ‘Indigenizing a Western model of research without critical reflection,’ Margaret Kovach asserts, ‘Can result in the individualistic approach of a principal investigator determining the question, methodology, and methods and asking an Indigenous person to act as the ‘front’.’ 47 It is important to remember that research has been considered a ‘bad word’ for many Indigenous and marginalised communities. 48 Academic research has been involved in some of the worst excesses of colonialism and this reality must permeate all social science and IR research.
This happens through a practice of critical reflexivity and an openness to generative refusals. Kelsey Wrightson, a non-Indigenous IR scholar reflecting on her work as the Executive Director of Dechinta Center for Research and Learning, explains, ‘I can also tell you that now I spend time working to create and protect the spaces and practices that I have come to know as sovereign – space for young ones to learn, space for Elders to teach. Space to learn the boat trails, set the nets, and speak the language. I’m not often in those spaces because they are not for me. Sometimes I get invited, but sometimes I am not. This is all part of the relational practice of governance – being refused as an enactment of sovereignty does not end the relationship, but creates a new path of action.’ 49
Worldview
Worldviews are firmly entrenched set of mental lenses in which we view the world. 50 They are affective, cognitive, and empirical maps in which people rely upon to ‘make sense of the social landscape and to find their ways to whatever goals they seek.’ 51 They are starting points for us to make sense and meaning of our socially constructed world. Often crafted from oral histories, origin stories, lived experience, and socialisation they are typically unconsciously adopted and taken for granted. Worldviews construct how a society comes to understand ‘the way things are,’ or what Mark Rifkin refers to as ‘settler common sense.’ 52 Though most societies will have a dominant worldview that is held by a majority of that group, alternative worldviews exist and influence how you and others view the world. Explorations of worldview(s) are not typically where IR methods courses begin and, as a result, there is an unchallenged assumption that there is a shared (most likely Western European) conceptualisation of worldview.
It is important to note that the defining of worldview(s) are also contested, particularly whether they should be about cognitive processes, intuitions, feelings, or discursive structures. 53 Moreover, worldviews are fluid and can transform over the course of time. That said, there are some commonalities that are agreed upon, including the importance of relationality and a relational worldview. 54 It is captured in the Lakota principle of Mitakuye Oyasin, or all my relatives, and is founded within the belief that we are all created from the same cosmic substance.
Simpson puts forward seven principles of an Indigenous worldview, including knowledge is cyclical, holistic, and relational to living and non-living beings; there are many truths dependent on lived experience; everything is alive and has a spirit; all things are equal; the land is sacred; there is an important relationship between the spirit world and humans; and that human beings are the least important being in the world. 55 McKenzie and Morrissette identify characteristics of Indigenous peoples’ relationship to the land, they are: all things adhere to the principles of survival, survival is built around cycles of the earth, there is a natural energy to life that is part of a grand design, all play a role in the balance and harmony of life, all is an extension of that grand design and are constructed of the same essence or spirit. 56
These differences at the level of worldview were reflected in some of the earliest Native intellectual interventions. For instance, one of the first ethnographic accounts by a Native scholar was Ella Cara Deloria’s 1944 work on Dakota kinship pointed to a dramatically different worldview, describing, ‘I can safely say that the ultimate aim of Dakota life, stripped of its accessories, was quite simple: One must obey kinship rules; one must be a good relative. [. . .] every other consideration was secondary – property, personal ambition, glory, good times, life itself.’ 57 Ella’s nephew and one of the most prominent Native intellectuals Vine Deloria, Jr. also wrote about the distinctiveness of an Indigenous worldview, asserting, ‘The major difference between American Indian views of the physical world and Western science lies in the premise accepted by Indians and rejected by scientists: the world in which we live is alive.’ 58 Viola Cordova, the first Native woman to receive a Ph.D. in philosophy explains, ‘The existence of these two unalike ‘world-pictures’ [Native and Western] is the basis upon which I make my claim that the Native American child confronts not only new physical surroundings when he enters the formal school system but a different philosophical space.’ 59
The way Indigenous peoples view the world differs from Western European worldviews. As a result, a research paradigm that foregrounds Indigenous worldviews premised on relationality, balance, spirituality, and connections to nature and land would lead to new questions and theories otherwise overlooked.
Ontology
Ontology is the study of being, as well as what exists in the world. It defines how researchers conceptualise what they study, both scientifically and philosophically. Scientifically, it refers to ‘a catalog of objects, processes, and factors that a given line of scientific research expects to exist,’ and philosophically it refers to our ‘hook-up’ to the world, or the ‘conceptual and philosophical basis on which claims about the world are formulated in the first place.’ 60 Scientific ontology acts as a catalogue of what exists for the researcher to study, while philosophical ontology asks how we make claims to understand the world – the former stems from the later. Hart explains, ‘How people see the world will influence their understanding of what exists, and vice-versa.’ 61 Patrick Thaddeus Jackson makes a distinction between mind-world dualism and mind-world monism, where dualism asserts that the mind and the world can be understood as discreetly separate, whereas monism holds that the environment and the mind cannot be divorced from each other. Jackson explains, ‘If ‘mind’ and ‘world’ are not two separate and distinct things, then it literally makes no sense to speak of the world as independently existing, since mind would always be and already intertwined with the world.’ 62
An Indigenous ontology would see no separation between the mind and the environment, they are co-constitutive. Moreover, spirituality is a significant connector between the mind and the world, infusing all thought and relationships as set of ‘attitudes, beliefs, and practices fine-tuned to harmonize with the lands on which the people live.’ 63 In fact, the Lakota term kapemni that refers to the hourglass-like shape of two triangular cones placed on top of each other represents the concept of mirroring, or a mirroring of what is in the spirit world with what is here on earth. 64 Mind, spirit, and environment are all connected.
In approaching research, this means being attentive to the co-constitutive relationship between the mind and the world, as well as recognising that relationship is imbued with a spiritual understanding. One example of this can be found within the Lakota language. The word for mother in Lakota is Ina. In English grammar, every word has a referent – the person, thing, or idea that the word refers to. This is similar in Lakota, but there is a distinct difference, it also provides a spiritual orientation that informs how to approach and be in relationship with that word. Ina is mother, but it literally translates to one who brings breath into the world (de Leon 2021). Illustratively, the word for white man is wasicu, directly translating to ‘one who takes the best part of the meat.’ Language reinforces the co-constitution of the mind, spiritual perception, and the world.
Epistemology
An Indigenous epistemology is quite distinctive from a Western constructed understanding of where knowledge comes from. Instead, it refers to a way of knowing that is both experiential and fluid, having its origins in intergenerational storytelling and taking on the wisdom of each storyteller. 65 Story acts as a powerful too, as a way of knowing and is at the centre of Indigenous oral tradition. Story has been relied upon for survival, a way to pass on traditions and to provide the seeds for new cultural and political configurations. 66 An Indigenous epistemology would also be attentive to the level of the subconscious, experienced through dreams, prayer, and visions. 67 It is premised in relationality, through collectivity and interrelationships with animals, the environment, with spirits, and with other humans. 68 An Indigenous epistemology would be developed through and connected to the land, making it practical and life-sustaining. 69
There is also a strong inward orientation to knowing, reinforced with visions and dreams. Willie Ermine describes a Cree epistemology as the ‘capacity to tap the creative life forces of the inner space by the use of all the faculties that constitute our being – it is to exercise inwardness.’ 70 This inwardness is both quiet and intuitive, forged from hardship and supported through an interconnected set of relationships.
An Indigenous IR research paradigm is influenced by Indigenous epistemology by validating lived experience as a way of knowing, emphasizing the importance of the relationships and reciprocity between ‘researcher’ and ‘subject,’ substantiating knowledge derived from turning inward (through dreams, visions, and spirituality), and recognizing of Indigenous methods (such as storytelling) as an important way to share knowledge.
Axiology
Axiology is the philosophical study of value of things and relates to other intellectual traditions such as philosophy, ethics, and religion. Axiology as a set of values, ethics, and principles that, when in the context of a research paradigm, act as guiding principles that supersede institutional review boards and disciplinary conventions and practices. Marlene Brandt Castellano suggests Indigenous ethics must be connected to deeper reflection of your values and beliefs (i.e. worldviews, ontology, and epistemology), asserting, ‘Ethics, the rules of right behavior, are intimately related to who you are, the deep values you subscribe to, and your understanding of your place in the spiritual order of reality.’ 71 An Indigenous axiology stems from a critical recognition and response to the pernicious material and cultural history of research and colonisation of Indigenous peoples. The long history of scientific racism, as well as research done to (and not with or by) Indigenous peoples locates Indigenous peoples as ‘powerless and research as disempowering.’ 72
Though conversations about research ethics are becoming increasingly common in IR methodological training spaces, axiology is typically not focused upon in IR methods courses. Axiology can act as a mechanism, however, that ensures greater continuity between each aspect of your research approach, providing a direct link to operationalise worldview, ontological, and epistemic convictions. Linda T. Smith explains, ‘Indigenous methodologies tend to approach cultural protocols, values and behaviours as an integral part of methodology. They are 'factors' to be built into research explicitly, to be thought about reflexively, to be declared openly as part of the research design, to be discussed as part of the final results of a study and to be disseminated back to the people in culturally appropriate ways and in a language that can be understood.’ 73 In this manner, culturally generated ethics and community accountabilities are methodology. 74
Understanding ethical convictions can be interpreted in a different manner when taken from Indigenous perspectives. For instance, protections of Western individualism often led to research protocols such as content and confidentiality, while values of collectivism or communitism, which are significant to the wellbeing of Indigenous communities are often overlooked. 75 Individualism in the context of communitism would require each person to identify gifts, passions, and unique attributes (whether through schooling, training, ceremony, or prayer) and develop them in ways that benefit the community. Personal freedom was a function of the wellbeing of the community. To act otherwise would, ironically, lead to a direct loss of the self. A loss of community for Indigenous peoples would be ‘paramount to psychic suicide,’ suggests Jace Weaver, ‘It is to lose the self in the dominant mass humanity, either ceasing to be or persisting merely as another ethnic minority, drifting with no place, no relations, no real people.’ 76 At first take, this (and other Indigenous concepts) may seem at odds with Western political conceptualisations, including that of personal liberty. Certainly, there are cases where a community’s desire for conformity leads to harm and the lack of individual self-realisation. Accordingly, exploring these principles is not meant to over romanticise or to suggest blind prescriptions; rather, they are put forward to provide tools to evaluate corrosive practices and ways of thinking, as well as to offer possibilities to think anew.
It should come to no surprise then that foregrounding community also plays a significant factor in carrying out research. ‘I could make a value statement and say that whatever I do as an Indigenous researcher must be hooked to the ‘community’ or the Indigenous research has to benefit the community,’ Cora Weber-Pillwax explains, continuing, ‘The research methods must mesh with the community and serve the community. Any research that I do must not destroy or in any way negatively implicate or compromise my own personal integrity as a person, as a human being.’ 77 Intimately tied to this notion of community is the value of respect. Wawoohola (in Lakota) a significant virtue necessary for balance and harmony among all living things. In carrying out research, a basic sense of respect would profoundly transform how IR approaches otherwise marginalised thought and experience. ‘Respect for all forms of life, unfortunately, is not a common value in many cultures today,’ Joseph M. Marshall III explains, continuing, ‘It is easier to respect someone stronger, faster, smarter, or richer. Likewise, it is easy to respect someone who is much like us in every way possible. Respecting someone with different beliefs, different dress, or different customs, or something entirely different from us is not easy.’ 78 Respect is at the core of a framework of interconnectedness, of community.
Hart puts forward eleven axiological convictions that provide some insight into an axiology for Indigenous IR research. 79 Not coincidently, they all touch upon respect and community in some way. They are:
Indigenous control over research,
Respect for community and individuals,
Reciprocity and responsibility,
Safety,
Non-intrusive observation,
Deep listening (involving heart, spirit, and emotions),
Reflective non-judgement,
Honouring what is shared,
Being aware of the connection between heart and mind,
Self-awareness, and
Subjectivity.
Worldview, ontology, epistemology, and axiology constitute lodge poles or pillars of an Indigenous IR research paradigm. Each of these considerations, when deployed thoughtfully and intentionally, can create a structure that is both inclusive of Indigenous experiences and thought, and responsive to the realities of historical erasure.
Identifying works that engage such a paradigm presents challenges, not only because of the fewness of Indigenous-oriented IR research but also that this approach would call for foregrounding research convictions often unspoken. More specifically, writing about worldview and axiology in constituting one’s research methodology is not a common IR practice. As such, I am hesitant to provide examples, though I think many of the works cited throughout this piece could reasonably fit into this framework. For instance, Wilmer embodies elements of ontology, epistemology, and axiology. 80 Foremost, she is arguing that there is more to study than what is defined by Western political convention and thought – it expands what is even possible to study in IR (i.e. scientific ontology). More subtly she motions to Indigenous experiences as a space of knowledge – Indigenous political practices are an important ‘marginal site’ in the changing context of International politics, while self-determination acts as a location in which to contest and reformulate Westphalian conceptions of nation-states. Moreover, Wilmer emphasises the necessarily normative nature of contestations over self-determination, something IR needs to take into account of and be responsive to.
Beier’s recognition of the nuances and subtleness of ‘advanced colonial practice’ shape his axiological convictions, something he makes clear throughout his scholarship. 81 There is also an underlying thread of knowledge as being derived from interrelatedness (epistemology). In noting the need for IR to be more attentive to Indigenous thought and experiences, he asserts that these efforts should not be ‘advocated in the interest of the Other alone,’ but rather, the development of IR knowledge would be further if it were ‘recovered from colonial practice.’ 82 He continues by asserting that not only would this foregrounding contribute to counter-hegemonic theorising, but it would also create a space from which we (as postcolonial subjects) can learn significantly.
Lightfoot also represents elements of an Indigenous research paradigm. 83 For instance, her focus on collectivity and the importance of Indigenous knowledge points to epistemic convictions, while her desire to be useful to Indigenous communities shapes her axiology. Lightfoot states, ‘[I] aim to keep academic research relevant to the lives of Indigenous peoples and communities, following the path set forth by Vine Deloria, who was one of the first to call for academic research in Indigenous contexts to seek not just ‘knowledge for knowledge’s sake’ but rather to produce outcomes that are relevant and useful to Indigenous communities.’ 84 Accordingly, Lightfoot holds the position of Canada Research Chair in Global Indigenous Rights and Politics and was recently appointed as Canada’s first Indigenous woman to serve on UN Indigenous rights body. 85 An axiological conviction to be useful to Indigenous communities is at the heart of Global Indigenous Studies, as well as Lightfoot’s work at national and international levels. These works adopt an approach that goes beyond the learning about the experiences of Indigenous peoples, rather they learn from Indigenous peoples to motion to revolutions, transformations, and challenges to IR theorising.
Concluding Thoughts – Theorising from the ‘Land’
In the colonial household metaphor Indigenous peoples are outside of the House and connected to the land in meaningful ways – living off and with the land or even buried in the soil under the House. This connection to the land establishes a set of reciprocal obligations, a grounded normativity. This article looks to recast this imagery to foreground an alternative metaphor of a tipi, to decenter the colonial household and to remap the landscape of IR. The lodge poles or worldview, ontology, epistemology, and axiology not only act as a foundation to imagine an Indigenous IR research paradigm, but they also (re)create an entire world, a world based on values of respect, community, interdependence, and spirituality, among other things. Indigenous perspectives and thought act as a microcosm of the historical and emergent struggles faced by a large swath of the planet’s inhabitants and are also located at a unique vantagepoint to both critique what is and provide insight into what can be. 86 This ‘in-between space’ between descriptive and normative analysis can be a space for IR to find new modes of practice and theorising. 87 It is a transformative space between old paradigms and emergent ones.
So how do we as IR scholars engage such a framework? I think of this in two ways: situating and enactment. To the first, how can we situate this research paradigm within IR in generative ways? Does it speak to preexisting theories and practices, or does it call for an entire rebuilding? How can this paradigm continue to come into being without being prematurely subsumed or dismissed by such a hierarchical ‘house’ formulation of IR, as spoken about throughout this article? Understanding the nuances between plurality versus pluralism in IR becomes quite useful to situate such a research paradigm. Plurality, as Daniel J. Levine and David M. McCourt suggest, is a viewpoint that IR already encompasses a variety of methods, theories, and approaches – characterised most clearly with the debates between various ‘-isms.’ 88 This would speak to the house of IR analogy and the insertion of Indigenous IR into this already varied palette of IR theory. From this perspective, acknowledging diverse approaches within IR theory is ‘less a statement of value than a grudging acknowledgement of certain stubborn disciplinary realities: the failure of neo- positivist ‘falsificationism’ to create a uniform, normal social science of IR (or of political science) on the one hand, and IR’s rapid growth and persistent variegation on the other.’ 89 Hierarchical distinctions would still define this space, we would simply see an Indigenous IR research paradigm being added and having to continue to struggle for legitimacy and to be taken seriously.
In contrast, and at the heart of the relationality of an Indigenous IR research paradigm, would be an understanding of pluralism that forwards diversity as valuable and essential for the study of international politics. It is a way of thinking that is premised on the recognition that theories and paradigms ‘can never do more than make provisional claims about a world that resists comprehensive organization through any single mode or scheme of explanation, interpretation, or analysis.’ 90 ‘Imagine a vigorous, diverse field of International Relations in which different – and mutually exclusive – ontologies, epistemologies, and methods are all constantly narrating and re-narrating events in different ways and by different means,’ assert Levine and McCourt, continuing, ‘Now situate that field in a vigorous, diverse political culture in which one finds different – and mutually exclusive – ways of identifying and conceptualizing problems relevant to it, while also contesting its own limits and nature.’ 91 Rather than an ‘anything goes’ environment of relativism, each paradigm would be scrutinised and assessed in relation to an internal coherence to an ontological and research framework it defines itself.
Regarding enactment, should this paradigm only be engaged by Indigenous peoples and within communities in which these convictions are generated? Or can non-Indigenous scholars engage in such work, and can it be separated from community? To this, there is no simple answer. Moreover, I’m certainly not one to provide a definitive answer. I will, however, attempt to provide some context to think about how to situate this question. On one hand, recognising the paucity of Indigenous scholars engaging this type of research forwards a mandate in which insisting upon a connection to Indigenous peoples and communities. This, on its own, would serve as an important intervention. On the other hand, this type of approach taken too rigidly would lead the subfield to further racialise and exotify specific types of knowledge and knowledge-production. This would ignore the creative function of the difference of this paradigm, keeping it separate than rather than a living within. Audre Lorde asserts, ‘We must not hide behind the mockeries of separation that have been imposed upon us and which so often we accept as our own. For instance, ‘I can’t possibly teach Black women’s writing – their experience is so different from mine.’ Yet how many years have you spent teaching Plato and Shakespeare and Proust? Or another, ‘She’s a white woman and what could she possibly have to say to me? [. . .] And all the other endless ways in which we rob ourselves of ourselves and each other.’
92
It should be clear that this is not a call for an appropriation or simply bringing in Indigenous voices into IR, allowing ‘Indigenous knowledges in ways that make them fit harmoniously with the dominating society’s predetermined concepts and categories.’ 93 But it is to assert that Indigenous approaches to understanding and studying the political world have applicability outside of Indigenous bodies and communities. 94
Theorising from outside the House, from the land, calls for a research paradigm taken up in a distinct spirit, one that is intentional in approach, ethics, and relationality. A few guiding questions that characterise the Indigenous IR research paradigm put forward are: 95
Whose research is it?
What is the purpose of the research?
Is it helpful to the community researched?
Who will benefit from the research?
Is the approach respectful to cultural protocols?
Who designed the question and scope?
Who is carrying it out?
Who and how will it be written up?
Are there collective ethical considerations to the research?
How are its results shared?
Many of these questions could be answered in a straightforward manner, drawing from the traditions of feminist IR, participatory action, and community-based research. A more challenging set of questions, ones that require exploration of worldview, ontology, epistemology, and axiology, include: Are you contributing to the lives of individuals and communities? What baggage or trauma are you carrying? Do you have a good heart? Is your spirit clear? And, importantly, are you creating or taking space?
An inability to recognise our shared interdependency and future – viewing each other instead as separate and distinct – limits our ability to benefiting from the richness of the human experience. This greatly limits IR’s ability to remain relevant to and reflective of the increasingly empowered, yet otherwise ignored masses. A hesitance to learn from, premised on a value system of pluralism, rather than to learn about difference, threatens to render IR theory as antiquated and, thus, swept away into obsolescence. The structure of a tipi implies respect, community, and interconnectedness. It is a recognition that ‘knowledge and learning does not take place in a vacuum, rather, it comes from our relationships with our communities, family, friends, as well as other scholars and pieces of literature.’ 96
Constructing a research paradigm must be contextual, unique to one’s location, community, and experiences with colonial erasures. This should lead to contestations and the pushing of the bounds of what constitutes research and scholarship, but done so in ways that foregrounds relations, respect, and community rather than demarcation and proximity to power. My hope is that you receive this article in the spirit of relationship and, along with it, a dream that we stop robbing ourselves of ourselves.
Footnotes
1.
This work is dedicated to L.H.M. Ling who was, in my early experiences in the field, a presence of inclusion and kindness. I admire both L.H.M. Ling and Anna Agathangelou and think they not only articulate important IR interventions, but also embody the same values they call for throughout their scholarship. Additional thanks to Leah Sarson and Will Greaves for feedback and encouragement. Lastly, I offer words of appreciation to the multiple anonymous reviewers who provided the most constructive, generous, and detailed feedback I have received in a peer review process, no doubt significantly adding to the quality of this intervention. See Anna M. Agathangelou and L.H.M. Ling, ‘House of IR: From Family Power Politics to the Poises of Worldism,’ International Studies Review 6, no. 4 (2004): 21–49.
2.
Agathangelou and Ling, ‘House of IR,’ 21.
3.
When I refer to Native or Indigenous (capitalised) I am referring to a group of people, while using indigenous (lower case) to refer to a period prior to European colonisation. Native American and American Indian are proper terminologies for Indigenous peoples in the US, though many of the groups and people I work with refer to themselves as Natives.
4.
Agathangelou and Ling, ‘House of IR,’ 25.
5.
For world systems contentions, see Fernando H. Cardoso and Enzo Faletto, Dependency and Development in Latin America (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1979) and Immanuel Wallerstein, The Modern World-System II: Mercantilism and the Consolidation of the European World-Economy, 1600-1750 (New York: Academic Press, 1980). Hegemonies in international political economy see Robert W. Cox, Production, Power and Order: Social Forces in the Making of History (New York: Columbia University Press, 1987). For postmodernist third debate see Josef Lapid, ‘The Third Debate: On the Prospects of International Theory in a Post-Positivist Era,’ International Studies Quarterly 33, no. 3 (1989): 235–51. Constructivist linguistic turn see Nicholas Onuf, World of Our Making: Rules and Rule in Social Theory and International Relations University of South Carolina Press, 1989) and Alexander Wendt, Social Theory of International Politics (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999).
6.
Agathangelou and Ling, ‘House of IR,’ 28.
7.
Charli R. Carpenter, ‘Gender Theory in World Politics: Contributions of a Nonfeminist Standpoint?’ International Studies Review 4, no. 3 (2002): 153–65.
8.
Agathangelou and Ling, ‘House of IR,’ 30.
9.
Arend Lijphart, ‘Comparative Politics and the Comparative Model.’ American Political Science Review 65 (1971): 682–93.
10.
Agathangelou and Ling, House of IR, 32.
11.
Agathangelou and Ling, House of IR, 34–35.
12.
Karena Shaw, Indigeneity and Political Theory: Sovereignty and the Limits of the Political (Routledge, 2008), 5.
13.
One of my previous academic postings was at the University of California, San Diego where, in 1976, two complete sets of human remains were found under the chancellor’s home on campus. Dating back over 9,000 years, these remains were some of the oldest found in North America and the struggle to repatriate those remains to the local Native peoples, the Kumeyaay, lasted decades and wasn’t resolved until relatively recently. Also, while writing this, 215 graves of Indigenous children were found at the site of the former Kamloops Indian Residential School in Canada.
14.
Glen S. Coulthard, ‘Place against Empire: Understanding Indigenous AntiColonialism,’ Affinities: A Journal of Radical Theory, Culture, and Action 4, no. 2 (2010): 79. For more on grounded normativity see Glen S. Coulthard, Red Skin, White Masks: Rejecting the Colonial Politics of Recognition (University of Minnesota Press, 2014).
15.
See Ronald Goodman, Lakota Star Knowledge: Studies in Lakota Stellar Theology (Rosebud: Sinte Gleska University Press, 1992) and Justin de Leon, ‘Lakota Experiences of (In)Security: Cosmology and Ontological Security,’ International Feminist Journal of Politics 22, no. 1 (2020): 33–62.
16.
Another generative way of viewing this could be through the lens of a Community of Practice similar to that of what Sondarjee suggests as feminist IR, allowing for more of an integration of indigeneity into many aspects of IR rather than constitutive of a fixed unified paradigm. See Maïka Sondarjee, ‘We Are a Community of Practice, Not a Paradigm! How to Meaningfully Integrate Gender and Feminist Approaches in IR Syllabi,’ International Studies Perspectives 23, no. 3 (2021): 229–48.
17.
See Justin de Leon, ‘Showing, Not Telling,’ International Feminist Journal of Politics 20, no. 1 (2018): 95–98.
18.
See Maria Stern, Naming Security – Constructing Identity: Mayan Women in Guatemala on the Eve of Peace (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2005).
19.
Putting forward a research paradigm inevitably leads to some element of broad generalisation and homogenisation. Although my situated knowledge makes it such that I draw heavily on Lakota experiences, knowledges, and metaphors, the paradigm put forward is constructed of scholarship from multiple Indigenous locations.
20.
See Alison Howell and Melanie Richter-Montpetit, ‘Is Securitization Theory Racist? Civilizationism, Methodological Whiteness, and Antiblack Thought in the Copenhagen School,’ Security Dialogue 51, no. 1 (2019): 3–22 and for animus towards Indigenous peoples see Kennan Ferguson, ‘Why Does Political Science Hate American Indians?’ American Political Science Association 14, no. 4 (2016): 1029–38.
21.
Jeff Corntassel and Marc Woons, ‘Indigenous Perspectives.’ In International Relations Theory, ed S. McGlinchey, R. Walters, and C. Scheinpflug (E-International Relations Publishing, 2017), 136.
22.
For instance, Coulthard, Red Skins, White Masks; Leanne Simpson, As We Have Always Done: Indigenous Freedom through Radical Resistance (University of Minnesota Press, 2017); J. Kēhaulani Kauanui, Paradoxes of Hawaiian Sovereignty: Land, Sex, and the Colonial Politics of State Nationalism (Durham: Duke University Press, 2018); and Brenden Hokowhitu et al., Routledge Handbook of Critical Indigenous Studies (Routledge, 2020).
23.
Franke Wilmer, The Indigenous Voice in World Politics (Newbury Park: Sage Publications, 1993), 2.
24.
J. Marshall Beier, International Relations in Uncommon Places: Indigeneity, Cosmology, and the Limits of International Theory (Palgrave Macmillan, 2005), 91–92.
25.
Sheryl Lightfoot, Global Indigenous Politics: A Subtle Revolution (New York: Routledge, 2016).
26.
Ibid., 211.
27.
Indigenous perspectives in IR see Roger Epp, ‘At the Wood’s Edge: Towards a Theoretical Clearing for the Indigenous Diplomacies in International Relations,’ in International Relations: Still an American Social Science? eds. Robert M.A. Crawford and Darryl S.L. Jarvis (New York: SUNY Press, 2000); Geeta Chowdhry and Sheila Nair, Power, Postcolonialism and International Relations: Reading Race, Gender and Class (Routledge, 2004); and Corntassel and Woons, ‘Indigenous Perspectives.’ For IR as sites of Indigenous resistance see Karena Shaw, ‘Indigeneity and the International,’ Journal of International Studies 31, no. 1 (2002) and Franke Wilmer, ‘Where You Stand Depends on Where You Sit,’ In Indigenous Diplomacies, ed. J. Marshall Beier (Palgrave Macmillan, 2009). Indigenous philosophies, knowledge, and pedagogy see Ann J. Tickner, ‘Revisiting IR in a Time of Crisis: Learning from Indigenous Knowledge’ International Feminist Journal of Politics 17, no. 4 (2015): 536–53 and Justin de Leon, ‘Relationship of Responsibility: Indigeneity in the IR Classroom,’ In Teaching International Relations in a Time of Disruption, eds. David Hornsby and Heather Smith (Palgrave McMillan, 2021): 75-88. For Indigenous multi-layered arrangements of political sovereignty see Vine Deloria Jr. and Clifford Lytle, American Indian, American Justice (University of Texas Press, 1983); Menno Boldt and J. Anthony Long, The Quest for Justice: Aboriginal Peoples and Aboriginal Rights (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1985); Will Kymlicka, Liberalism, Community and Culture (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1989); and James Tully, Strange Multiplicity: Constitutionalism in an Age of Diversity (Cambridge University Press, 1995). Indigenous and postcolonial sovereignties see Liam Midzain-Gobin, ‘“Come Out and Live on Your Land Again': Sovereignty, Borders and The Unist'ot'en Camp,’ International Journal of Migration and Border Studies 5, no. 1-2 (2019): 12–28; Matthew Wildcat and Justin de Leon, ‘The In-Between Space: Indigenous Sovereignties in Creative and Comparative Perspective,’ Borderlands 19, no. 2 (2020): 1–28; and Partha Chatterjee, The Nation and its Fragments: Colonial and Postcolonial Histories (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993). For relational sovereignty see Matthew Wildcat, ‘Replacing Exclusive Sovereignty with a Relational Sovereignty,’ Borderlands 19, no. 2 (2020): 172–84 and Kelsey Wrightson, ‘Generative Refusal: Creative Practice and Relational Indigenous Sovereignty,’ Borderlands 19, no. 2 (2020): 157-71. For Sami self-determination see Rauna Kuokkanen, ‘Achievements of Indigenous Self-Determination. The Case of the Sami Parliaments in Finland and Norway,’ In Indigenous Diplomacies, ed. J. Marshall Beier (Palgrave, 2009) and Rauna Kuokkanen, Restructuring Relations: Indigenous Self-Determination, Governance and Gender (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2019). Warfighting see Andrew W. Szarejko, ‘Do Accidental Wars Happen? Evidence from America’s Indian Wars,’ Journal of Global Security Studies 6, no. 4 (2020) and Brian R. Urlacher, ‘Introducing Native American Conflict History (NACH) Data,’ Journal of Peace Research 58, no. 5 (2021). Indigeneity and Democracy see David Bedford and Thom Workman, ‘The Great Law of Peace: Alternative Inter-nation(al) Practices and the Iroquoian Confederacy,’ Alternatives 22, no. 1 (1997): 87–111 and Deborah J. Yashar, ‘Democracy, Indigenous Movements, and the Postliberal Challenge in Latin America,’ World Politics 52, no. 1 (1999): 76-104. International institutions see Sheryl R. Lightfoot, ‘Indigenous Rights in International Politics: The Case of “Overcompliant” Liberal States,’ Alternatives: Global, Local, Political 33, no. 1 (2008): 83-104 and Lightfoot, Global Indigenous Politics. International society see Neta Crawford, ‘Native Americans and the Making of International Society,’ In The Globalization of International Society, eds. Tim Dunne and Christian Rues-Smit (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2016). Diplomacy, women, and politics see Laura Parisi and Jeff Corntassel, ‘A “Revolution within a Revolution”: Indigenous Women's Diplomacies,’ In Indigenous Diplomacies, ed. J. Marshall Beier (Palgrave Macmillan, 2009) and Manuela L. Picq, Vernacular Sovereignties: Indigenous Women Challenging World Politics (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 2018). For diplomacy and treaty-making see Ravi De Costa, ‘Indigenous Diplomacies before the Nation-State,’ in Indigenous Diplomacies, ed. J. Marshall Beier (Palgrave Macmillan, 2009); Heather A. Smith and Gary N. Wilson, ‘Inuit Transnational Activism: Cooperation and Resistance in the Face of Global Change,’ in Indigenous Diplomacies, ed. J. Marshall Beier (Palgrave Macmillan, 2009); Sheryl Lightfoot and David MacDonald, ‘Treaty Relations Between Indigenous Peoples: Advancing Global Understandings of Self-Determination,’ New Diversities 19, no. 2 (2017) and Eric Grynaviski, America’s Middlemen: Power at the Edge of Empire (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2018). Territorial Expansion see Richard W. Maass, The Picky Eagle: How Democracy and Xenophobia Limited US Territorial Expansion (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2020). Structure-agent debates see John G. Oates and Eric Grynaviski. ‘Reciprocity, Hierarchy, and Obligation in World Politics: From Kula to Potlatch,’ Journal of International Political Theory 14, no. 2 (2018): 145-64. Environmental justice see Sarah M. Wiebe, Everyday Exposure: Indigenous Mobilization and Environmental Justice in Canada’s Chemical Valley (Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 2016); Kimberly R. Marion Suiseeya, ‘Negotiating the Nagoya Protocol: Indigenous Demands for Justice,’ Global Environmental Politics 14, no. 3 (2014): 102-24; and Kimberly R. Marion Suiseeya, Laura Zanottie, and Katie Haapala, ‘Navigating the Spaces Between Human Rights and Justice: Cultivating Indigenous Representation in Global Environmental Governance,’ The Journal of Peasant Studies 49, no. 3 (2021). For Indigenous security see Neta Crawford, ‘A Security Regime among Democracies: Cooperation among Iroquois Nations,’ International Organization 48, no. 3 (1994); Neta Crawford, ‘The Long Peace Among Iroquois Nations,’ In War and Peace in the Ancient World, eds. K. A. Raaflaub (Wiley-Blackwell, 2006); Jonathan Fisher and Cherry Leonardi, ‘Insecurity and the Invisible: The Challenge of Spiritual (In)Security,’ Security Dialogue 52, no. 5 (2020): 1-18; Stern, Naming Security; Beier, International Relations in Uncommon Places; de Leon, ‘Lakota Experiences of (In)Security’; Liam Midzain-Gobin, ‘Comfort and Insecurity in the Reproduction of Settler Coloniality,’ Critical Studies on Security 9, no. 3 (2021): 212–25; and Eric Van Rythoven, ‘A Feeling of Unease: Distance, Emotion, and Securitizing Indigenous Protest in Canada,’ International Political Economy 15, no 2 (2021): 251-71. For navigations of the international order see Pat Lauderdale and Nicholas D. Natividad ‘Global Indigenous Rights and Responses,’ The International Studies Encyclopedia (International Studies Association, 2010).
28.
See J. Marshall Beier, ‘Beyond Hegenomic State(ment)s of Nature: Indigenous Knowledge and Non-state Possibilities in International Relations,’ In Power, Postcolonialism and International Relations: Reading Race, Gender and Class, eds. Geeta Chowdhry and Sheila Nair (Routledge, 2013): 82–115 and Lightfoot, Global Indigenous Politics.
29.
Ferguson, ‘Why Does Political Science Hate American Indians,’ 1029.
30.
For more on incommensurability, see Eve Tuck and K. Wayne Yang, ‘Decolonization is not a Metaphor,’ Decolonization: Indigeneity, Education & Society 1, no. 1 (2012): 1–40.
31.
Lightfoot, Global Indigenous Politics.
32.
See Phillip J. Deloria, Playing Indian (New Haven: Yale University, 1999).
33.
Donald L. Fixico, Indian Resilience and Rebuilding: Indigenous Nations in the Modern American West (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 2013), 7.
34.
Ibid., 7.
35.
Crawford, ‘A Security Regime among Democracies.’
36.
Ibid., 347.
37.
Matthew Wildcat, Mandee McDonald, Stephanie Irlbacher-Fox, and Glen Coulthard, ‘Learning from the Land: Indigenous Land-based Pedagogy and Decolonization,’ Decolonization: Indigeneity, Education & Society 3, no. 3 (2014): III and Taiaiake Alfred, Peace, Power, Righteousness: An Indigenous Manifesto (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009).
38.
I refer to settler colonialism as distinct from franchise colonialism, the later using native peoples to extract resources and wealth, whereas the former sees the land as that resource and wealth. See J. Kēhaulani Kauanui and Patrick Wolfe, ‘Settler Colonialism Then and Now,’ Politica & Societa 2/2012 (2012): 235–58.
39.
Simpson, As We Have Always Done: Indigenous Freedom through Radical Resistance, 3.
40.
Leanne Simpson, Dancing On Our Turtle's Back: Stories of Nishnaabeg Re-Creation, Resurgence, and a New Emergence (ARP, 2011), 17.
41.
Coulthard, Red Skin, White Masks, 169.
42.
For contestations over the term indigenous, see Jodi A. Byrd and Michael Rothberg, ‘Between Subalternity and Indigeneity,’ Interventions 13, no 1. (2011): 1–12 and for diversity of Indigenous experiences Kevin Bruyneel, ‘Social Science and the Study of Indigenous People’s Politics: Contributions, Omissions, and Tensions,’ Oxford Handbook of Indigenous People’s Politics, eds. J.A. Lucero, D. Turner, and D. L. VanCott (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014).
43.
Shawn Wilson, ‘What is Indigenous Research Methodology?’ Canadian Journal of Native Education 25, no. 1 (2001): 175.
44.
See Margaret Kovach, ‘Emerging from the Margins: Indigenous Methodologies,’ In Research as Resistance: Critical, Indigenous, and Anti-Oppressive Approaches, eds. Leslie Brown and Susan Strega (Canadian Scholars’ Press, 2005); and Margaret Kovach, Indigenous Methodologies: Characteristics, Conversations, and Contexts (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2009).
45.
Linda Tuhiwai Smith, Decolonizing Methodologies: Research and Indigenous Peoples (Zed Books, 1999) and Shawn Wilson, Research is Ceremony: Indigenous Research Methods (Nova Scotia: Fernwood Publishing Co., 2008).
46.
Shawn Wilson and Michael Hart suggest an Indigenous Research Paradigm that includes ontology, epistemology, methodology, and axiology; while IR scholar Patrick Thaddeus Jackson suggests a research paradigm consists of ontology, epistemology, and methodology. This article suggests that all four elements of worldview, ontology, epistemology, and axiology inform the construction of methodology. Many of these elements are not exclusive to an Indigenous IR research paradigm, what is unique is the pairing and the situating of them within the context of settler colonialism, erasure and genocide, and a worldview distinct from the dominant Western culture. It is also important to note that the following framework is an intervention intended for the subfield of IR. See Wilson, Research is Ceremony; Michael Hart, ‘Indigenous Worldviews, Knowledge, and Research: The Development of an Indigenous Research Paradigm,’ Journal of Indigenous Voices in Social Work 1, no. 1 (2010): 1-16; and Patrick T. Jackson, Conduct of Inquiry in International Relations: Philosophy of Science and its Implications for the Study of World Politics (Routledge, 2011).
47.
Kovach, ‘Emerging from the Margins,’ 26.
48.
Smith, Decolonizing Methodologies, 1.
49.
Kelsey Wrightson, ‘Generative Refusal: Creative Practice and Relational Indigenous Sovereignty,’ Borderlands 19, no. 2 (2020): 168.
50.
Marvin E. Olsen, Dora G. Lodwick, and Riley E. Dunlap, Viewing the World Ecologically (Routledge, 2019).
51.
Hart, ‘Indigenous Worldviews, Knowledge, and Research,’ 2.
52.
Mark Rifkin, Settler Common Sense: Queerness and Everyday Colonialism in the American Renaissance (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2014).
53.
Rauna Kuokkanen, Reshaping the University: Responsibility, Indigenous Epistemes, and the Logic of the Gift (Vancouver: UBC Press, 2007).
54.
See Thomas L.C. Graham, ‘Using Reason for Living to Connect to American Indian Healing Traditions,’ Journal of Sociology and Social Welfare XXIX, no. 1 (2002): 55-75 and Wildcat, ‘Replacing Exclusive Sovereignty with a Relational Sovereignty.’
55.
Leanne Simpson, ‘Anishinaabe Ways of Knowing.’ In Aboriginal Health, Identity and Resources, eds. J. Oakes, et al. (Native Studies Press, 2000), 165–85.
56.
Brad McKenzie and Vern Morrissette, ‘Social Work Practice with Canadians of Aboriginal Background: Guidelines for Respectful Social Work,’ In Multicultural social work in Canada: Working with Diverse Ethno-Racial Communities, eds. A. Al-Krenawi & J. R. Graham (Oxford University Press, 2003), 251–82.
57.
Ella Cara Deloria, Speaking of Indians (Dakota Press, 1944/1998), 25.
58.
Vine Deloria Jr., Red Earth White Lies: Native Americans and the Myth of Scientific Fact (New York: Scribner, 1995), 55.
59.
Viola F. Cordova, How It Is: The Native American Philosophy of V.F. Cordova (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 2007), 76.
60.
Jackson, Conduct of Inquiry in International Relations, 28.
61.
Hart, ‘Indigenous Worldviews, Knowledge, and Research,’ 7.
62.
Jackson, Conduct of Inquiry in International Relations, 31.
63.
Vine Deloria Jr., God is Red: A Native View of Religion (Golden: Fulcrum Publishing, 1972/1994), 70.
64.
Goodman, Lakota Star Knowledge and de Leon, ‘Lakota Experiences of (In)Security.’
65.
See Leroy Little Bear, ‘Jagged Worldviews Collide,’ In Reclaiming Indigenous Voice and Vision, eds. M. Battiste (Vancouver: UBC Press, 2000), 77-85 and Thomas King, The Truth About Stories: A Native Narrative (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota, 2008).
66.
See Simpson, Dancing On Our Turtle's Back.
67.
See Marlene B. Castellano, ‘Updating Aboriginal Traditions of Knowledge,’ in Indigenous Knowledges in Global Contexts, eds. G. J. S. Dei, B. L. Hall and D. G. Rosenburg (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2000); Marlene Brandt Castellano, ‘Ethics of Aboriginal Research,’ Journal of Aboriginal Health 1, no.1 (2004).
68.
See Marie Battiste. and J. Sa’k’ej Youngblood Henderson, Protecting Indigenous Knowledge and Heritage: A Global Challenge (Saskatoon: Purich Press Publishing, 2000); and Wilson, ‘What is Indigenous Research Methodology?’
69.
Kovach, ‘Emerging from the Margins.’
70.
Willie Ermine, ‘Aboriginal Epistemology,’ In First Nations Education in Canada, eds. Marie Battiste and Jean Barman (Vancouver: UBC Press, 1995), 104.
71.
Castellano, Updating Aboriginal Traditions of Knowledge, 103.
72.
Smith, Decolonizing Methodologies, 118.
73.
Ibid., 15.
74.
See Kovach, ‘Emerging from the Margins.’
75.
See Smith, Decolonizing Methodologies, and for communitism see Jace Weaver, ‘Native American studies, Native American Literature, and Communitism,’ Ayaangwaamizin 1, no. 2 (1997).
76.
Weaver, ‘Native American Studies, Native American Literature, and Communitism,’ 43.
77.
Cora Weber-Pillwax, ‘Orality in Northern Cree Indigenous Worlds,’ Canadian Journal of Native Education 25, no. 2 (2001): 168.
78.
Joseph M. Marshall III, The Lakota Way: Stories and Lessons for Living (Viking Compass, 2007), 49, author’s emphasis.
79.
Hart, Indigenous Worldviews, Knowledge, and Research.
80.
Wilmer, The Indigenous Voice in World Politics.
81.
See Beier, International Relations in Uncommon Places, as well as J. Marshall Beier, Indigenous Diplomacies (Palgrave Macmillan, 2009).
82.
Beier, International Relations in Uncommon Places, 217.
83.
Lightfoot, Global Indigenous Politics.
84.
Ibid., 22 and Vine Deloria Jr., Custer Died for Your Sins: An Indian Manifesto (Oklahoma: University of Oklahoma Press, 1969/1988).
85.
See Brishti Basu, ‘ “It’s Blown Me Away”: Sheryl Lightfoot becomes First Indigenous Woman from Canada Appointed to UN Expert Body,’ The Narwhal, April 11, 2021. Available at:
. Although not the main focus of this section, it is important to note that neither Franke Wilmer nor J. Marshall Beier self-identify as Indigenous. Moreover, Sheryl Lightfoot was the first Native American female awarded a PhD in the United States in IR and that was in 2009.
86.
See Shaw, Indigeneity and Political Theory.
87.
See Wildcat and de Leon, ‘The In-Between Space.’
88.
Daniel J. Levine and David M. McCourt, ‘Why Does Pluralism Matter When We Study Politics? A View from Contemporary International Relations,’ Perspectives on Politics 16, no. 1 (2018): 92-109.
89.
Ibid., 93.
90.
Ibid., 93.
91.
Ibid., 101.
92.
Lorde, Sister Outsider, 43–44.
93.
Beier, International Relations in Uncommon Places, 91-92.
94.
For myself and others who engage in an Indigenous IR research paradigm, as best defined throughout this article, a mainstream IR acceptance of such a paradigm would certainly make our work more intelligible to the subfield, though I doubt it would substantively change the nature of questions and research many of us do. This is because, if done correctly, an Indigenous IR research paradigm is carried out with an amount of accountability and connection to the communities we learn from and serve. This means that much of this work done within this paradigm has applied and inherent value, regardless of whether recognised by IR theory and theorizing. In fact, many of these scholars are already publishing outside of IR. This is not meant to diminish the importance of the space of IR, yet rather to foreground the important research question of ‘to whom is this research for?’
95.
This series of questions are adapted from Kovach, ‘Emerging from the Margins,’ 26 and Smith, Decolonizing Methodologies, 10.
96.
Wildcat and de Leon, ‘The In-Between Space,’ 21.
