This chapter goes beyond Surama Village and focuses on how Anglican missionaries from the Church Missionary Society (CMS) established missions in British Guiana during the mid nineteenth century that impacted the Makushi and other Indigenous groups. Based on archival sources, it closely describes how Thomas Youd formed three successive missions in the Makushi territory during the 1830s and 1840s. The chapter considers the relational modes, acquisitions of desiderata, and patterns of interaction evident among Makushi groups in this context. It considers the strategies and intentions involved in their seeking relations with Youd and other Anglican missionaries against the backdrop of ongoing threats of slaving expeditions directed against them from Brazil. The chapter also examines a later visit to the Makushi by an Anglican missionary during the 1850s and introduces early evidence of the aftermath of such missionisation. The chapter builds up to a discussion of the shamanic dimensions of these historical interactions.

In the last decade, states have fixated on policing their borders beyond their territorial limits. This practice, which has been called “shifting borders,” undermines state legitimacy, because the latter depends on how states exercise their power, who they exercise it over, and also on where they exercise it. As the chapter shows, shifting borders generates a tension among rights, territory, and people, where it seems that we can have any two, but not all three. This chapter examines three responses to this tension. First, Sovereigntism seeks to stabilize the relation of people and territory. Second, Democratic Cosmopolitanism tolerates shifts in territory, as long as people and rights remain. Finally, the Watershed Model keeps borders in their place, but it accepts changes in the people, as it decouples democratic governance and rights from a particular national identity. It is argued that, in the long run, this model best handles the challenges in times of planetary crises, such as global poverty and climate change. For the Watershed Model, like the grass-roots movements of indigenous peoples and transnational migrant activists, can redefine territory, allow for human mobility, and resist state overreach in border control.

Chapter 2 explores the Ecuadorean rainforest landscape, its inhabitants, and their first interactions with the oil industry before large-scale oil extraction started in the late 1960s. It starts by looking back at the millennia of gradual changes when the history of crude oil and the tropical rainforest environment started to intersect. An exploration of the geographical properties of the Amazon landscapes, as well as their flora and fauna including human inhabitants, visualizes the lively environment encountered by the first oilmen visiting the area in the period between the 1920s and the 1960s. Two multinational oil companies, the Leonard Exploration Company and Shell, undertook major efforts to discover petroleum reserves in the Ecuadorean Amazon. Even though their exploration programs failed in the end, their pioneering work of mapping and surveying the rainforest and its subsoil laid the foundation for large-scale petroleum extraction decades later.

Chapter 4 retraces how oil infrastructural projects, technology transfers, and the social relations underpinning them turned the Ecuadorean Amazon into an agro-industrial landscape: The ecology of the forest became enmeshed with the economy of oil due to the large-scale extraction since the 1970s. The oil companies’ interest to develop the region converged with the national governments’ aspiration to incorporate the Amazon into the national territory through agricultural colonization. To realize these goals, Texaco set up an extensive network of transportation infrastructure in the rainforest. A multitude of subcontracting firms, however, did the actual work of constructing platforms, roads, pipelines, and camps. Far from being a linear success story, the technological conquest of the Amazon suffered constant setbacks caused by the geological, geographical, and tropical climatic conditions of the rainforest. The progress of technology and colonization also faced opposition from local communities. One such story of resistance against an access road built in the territory of the A’i Kofán is woven into a broader story of how the region underwent a profound material metamorphosis.

This essay centers on the dynamic and inherently complex interplay among pre-Hispanic and European languages and writing (in the broadest sense) in New Spain. It addresses the populations, spaces (geographic and institutional), and formats in which theories, policies, and practices of language use and inscription shifted through three centuries of colonial rule. Emphasis is placed on the strategic choices of indigenous subjects, primarily Nahuas, in their sonic and visual communication practices. It pays attention to the violent processes that went hand in hand with the imposition and acquisition of European communicative practices and tools. Through the analysis of a wide variety of textual genres produced by indigenous peoples and Spaniards, some of the questions treated in this essay are: how did the use of Nahuatl, Spanish, or Latin convey prestige, authenticity, and legitimacy in some circumstances, and in others not? In what ways did the Roman alphabet become a powerful tool wielded by native peoples? Why were indigenous painted amoxtli recreated by memory, then glossed with Spanish text, decades and even one hundred years after the zealous priests burned the originals?

Chapter 13 focuses on sustainable development in contemporary Latin America and, more specifically, on the impact of neoextractivism–the exploitation of primary products–on the quality of life of the communities where this economic activity is based. It shows that, although neoextractivism has led to short-term economic growth, it has also created environmental damage that has been especially detrimental to indigenous peoples and the rural poor. It explores protests against neoextractivism through case studies of Bolivia, Ecuador, and Peru, and shows that affected communities had some success in ameliorating the negative consequences of neoextractivism only in Bolivia. Finally, to explain the impact of protests it highlights several factors. Democratic institutions and decentralization create incentives for greater accountability at the local level. Moreover, in some cases, the mobilizational strength and political coordination of local communities leads to collective action. However, the impact of protests is reduced most critically because leaders across the political spectrum have been committed to neoextractivism and have co-opted the mechanism of prior consultation.

Chapter 6 describes and explains the political inclusion of disadvantaged groups (women, indigenous peoples, Afro-descendants, and ordinary people) in contemporary Latin America. It highlights many impressive accomplishments – most notably, the steps taken to increase the number of women in political office by instituting gender quotas, a mechanism that obliges political parties to field a certain percentage of female candidates. It also discusses how various other institutional innovations have fostered political inclusion. However, it shows that indigenous peoples and Afro-descendants have gained less access to political office than women, and that few steps have been taken to redress this problem. It discusses this problem in Brazil, among other places. Moreover, it points out that institutions offering, in principle, an avenue for citizen input into government beyond voting for representatives are frequently hijacked by governments. It stresses both the promise and the limits of various initiatives to make democracy more inclusive. It concludes that, even though Latin American democracies have become more inclusive, democracy still works better for some groups than for others.

Chapter 2 discusses how the sense of nationhood in Latin American countries has evolved since 1880, and how the construction of nations has been closely linked to racial and ethnic identities. It shows that nations were not built from scratch, and that nation builders were conditioned by legacies from pre-Columbian and colonial times. It also demonstrates that nation building is an ongoing, never-finished project. Indeed, it identifies three distinct periods in the process of nation building. In a first period, an elite vision of the nation, which took white, civilized Europe as a model, prevailed. In a second period, a national-popular vision of the nation took center stage, and el pueblo (the people) was considered the true essence of the nation. Finally, in a third, ongoing period, nationhood has been understood in multicultural terms and, for the first time in the history of Latin America, the distinctiveness of indigenous peoples and of Afro-descendants has been recognized and treated as legitimate. It argues that, over time, the sense of nationhood has become more inclusive of different races and ethnicities.

Chapter 1 focuses on the state as a distinct form of political organization, and analyzes the formation and capacity of states in Latin America. It initially considers the states created by indigenous peoples in pre-Columbian times and the states subsequently imposed by the Spanish and Portuguese colonial rulers. It next shows how modern states were formed in Latin America after independence from Spain and Portugal. It argues that Latin America pursued a trade-led model of state formation and that the resulting states were weak, patrimonial states – that is, states that were treated by rulers, partially at least, as their private property and did not enforce the rule of law. Moreover, it holds that state weakness has been a persistent problem in Latin America, as a discussion of Mexico and Uruguay shows, and that contemporary states are unable to impose their rule in a uniform manner throughout the territory they claim to control. It maintains that Latin America has modern states, but also that these states are weak.