Decolonial Dialogues

Modern colonialism was deeply visual, asserting its authority through new conventions of viewing and representing conquered territories. From the early modern period, European travellers’ accounts—first illustrated with intaglio prints, later with photographs—shaped how European audiences imagined the world and their place within it. Exotic descriptions and images of distant lands were consumed vicariously from the metropole, reinforcing European superiority over the perceived backwardness of non-European cultures. Though some of these representations are now recognised as sensationalist distortions, they profoundly shaped European perceptions of faraway societies. By framing the non-European "Other" as an object of visual scrutiny, these depictions reinforced claims of cultural and scientific superiority. As cultural theorist Mary Louise Pratt (1992) contends, such representations not only directed and organised colonial expansion but also shaped how Europeans perceived their role in the world through the production and consumption of such narratives.

Fig. 2: Malay shipwright surrounded by children from the Straits Settlements, taken by G. R. Lambert, circa 1890. Lambert set up a photographic studio, G. R. Lambert & Co., in Singapore in 1847.  Photo courtesy of Leiden University Libraries.

European practices of viewing and representing their colonial subjects codified social distinctions, magnifying racial and gender hierarchies. Sustained by specific visual technologies and conventions, the colonial gaze reduced non-Europeans to objects of observation, legitimising imperial authority. European perspectives became dominant, shaping official discourses that determined the status of colonised subjects. Women, in particular, were positioned as both objects of intrigue and control. Harems, zenanas, and veiled women—common motifs in colonial narratives—symbolised both exotic allure and oppression. Customs such as sati, veiling, and foot binding were condemned yet remained subjects of fascination, justifying colonial interventions under the guise of civilisation and reform.

Fig. 3: Postcard captioned ‘A Malay Woman in Dancing costum’ taken by G. R. Lambert & Co., 1910. Collection of NUS Libraries. 

Photography further entrenched colonial power dynamics, wielding the authority of the visual as an instrument of control. Its very language—taking, shooting, capturing—betrays its predatory, militaristic underpinnings, echoing the extractivist logic of empire. The camera did not merely record; it seized, possessed, and claimed its subjects. It functioned as a weapon of the colonial gaze—an apparatus of domination that transformed people into objects. Hence, the terminology surrounding photography reflects a structure of power in which the colonised were rendered passive, framed and fixed by those who captured them. Even the concept of exposure, the measure of light reaching the camera’s sensor, evokes a process of forced visibility—of being laid bare, made vulnerable beneath the colonial lens. 

Colonised women were particularly subject to this mode of representation, depicted in ways that both objectified and confined them, reinforcing the power imbalances on which colonial rule depended. These portrayals did not reflect lived realities; rather, they were mediated through external perceptions, constructing reductive stereotypes that aligned with colonial ideologies. Such representations not only dictated how colonised women were perceived but also shaped their own self-understanding, defining their place within shifting colonial societies. The colonial gaze, then, was never neutral—it was an assertion of power, determining whose stories mattered, how they were framed, and who was granted visibility within history.

Fig. 4: Javanese woman, photographed by C.J. Kleingrothe, taken at the photo studio in Fig 1, circa 1910. Photo courtesy of Leiden University Libraries.

Literary theorist Edward Said (1978) defines the "Other" as a construct shaped by dominant imperial powers, where the West defines itself in opposition to the East, reinforcing an ideological hierarchy between coloniser and colonised. Within this framework, the ‘Orient’ is portrayed as backward, irrational, and uncivilised—qualities that justified Western intervention. This process of Othering was not merely an intellectual exercise but a crucial mechanism of colonial dominance.

The portrayal of colonised women in travelogues, postcards, and photographs played a central role in colonial narratives, shaping public perceptions of the colonies and reinforcing colonial ideologies. These representations presented them as exotic, mysterious, and submissive, reducing them to hypersexualised or primitive stereotypes. Travel accounts often depicted them as docile or inherently inferior, while photographs and postcards, produced for European audiences, emphasised their perceived ‘Otherness’, stripping them of their social, cultural, and political context. Through the lens of Orientalism, colonised women were positioned as passive subjects, their image commodified to sell the fantasy of the ‘exotic’ colony. Repeated across various media, these constructions reinforced the colonial gaze, limiting how colonised women were perceived and understood, both then and now.

Fig. 5: Postcard captioned ‘Malayan Dancer’, circa 1902. Collection of NUS Libraries.

Fig. 6: Postcard captioned ‘Malay Woman’, circa 1904. Collection of NUS Libraries.

Malay women, in particular, were frequently depicted as indolent, savage, and uncivilised—symbols of the “Other” in European narratives. Travel writers such as Isabella Bird in The Golden Chersonese and the Way Thither (1883) described them as having “no manners,” idly lounging while tending to domestic tasks. Emily Innes, in Chersonese with the Gliding Off (1890), labelled them “frowzy in their garments” and “very dirty in their habits.” Most strikingly, Joseph Conrad’s Almayer’s Folly (1895) presents Mrs Almayer as a “half-savage,” embodying the untamed, primal nature imposed on Malay women in colonial discourse. These were not isolated opinions but part of a broader narrative shaping European perceptions of Malay women.

The consequences of such Othering extended beyond the colonial period, leaving a lasting impact on perceptions of Malay women and the broader Malay community. Colonial narratives often framed Malays as an idle, complacent race, a stereotype institutionalised in British colonial policies. According to sociologist Syed Hussein Alatas (1977), this construction positioned the ‘native’ as dependent on colonial governance for progress. British colonial policies reinforced socio-economic disparities, and the stereotype of Malay laziness continues to obscure deeper structural inequalities rooted in colonial-era restrictions on social mobility and economic opportunity. Crucially, this discourse has also erased the historical agency of Malay women, who, long before colonial rule, were active as rulers, traders, writers, and more.

By centring those displaced from their own histories, this exhibition advances a decolonial perspective, countering the colonial gaze and the narratives it constructs. It explores historical representations of Malay women, placing colonial narratives alongside the voices and lived experiences of the women themselves. By juxtaposing these perspectives, it challenges the colonial gaze that framed Malay women as the "Other," creating space for dialogue on colonialism, representation, and the reclamation of agency. Rather than merely reproducing dominant portrayals, it shifts focus to Malay women’s voices, highlighting their agency, intellect, and role as cultural and intellectual contributors. The texts and images they produced reclaim their presence in historical discourse. Among these counter-voices on display is a selection from Hiboran, a 1940s–1950s Malay magazine, which offers a more nuanced portrayal of Malay women. Often dismissed as entertainment or gossip, such magazines capture the empowerment of Malay women—intellectuals, creatives, and active participants in cultural, political, and social spheres. Far from the passive figures constructed in colonial discourse, the women in these magazines emerge as agents of change, shaping their own futures despite the hegemonic forces of colonialism, as well as the customs and class divisions within Malay society at the time.

Fig. 7: Picture of a group of UMNO women marching to meet the Sultan of Johor regarding demands for federal elections. Photo from an article titled ‘1st July A Historical Date for Johor’, Hiboran vol. 360, 10 July 1954. Collection of NUS Libraries.

Ultimately, this exhibition underscores that decolonisation is not merely a critique—it is an act of restoration, reclaiming voices and reinstating agency to those who have been silenced. The works on display offer a platform for reflection and engagement, recognising the resilience and agency of Malay women during this historical period. However, decolonisation cannot be confined to exhibitions or academic discourse—it demands a continuous, active effort to re-examine entrenched narratives constructed by those in power. By confronting the biases and distortions of the past, we move towards a future where representation is no longer solely dictated by the colonial gaze but shaped by those to whom these histories belong.

Coming soon!