It’s a provocative reframing. Where much of postcolonial theory emphasizes the psychic, cultural, and epistemic aftermath of empire, Getachew pulls us back to political theory: to the visions of Nkrumah, Nyerere, and other anticolonial thinkers who sought not only to free their countries but to reimagine sovereignty, solidarity, and democracy on a planetary scale. For a brief moment in the mid-20th century, the dream of a radically different world system flickered—before being crushed under Cold War geopolitics, neocolonial economics, and the return of imperial hierarchies in new guises.
Theory Snapshot: Decolonization Beyond the Nation
Getachew’s intervention is deceptively simple: independence was never enough. Anticolonial leaders understood that sovereignty in a world dominated by Western powers and global capital would be hollow unless accompanied by institutional transformation. Organizations like the Organization of African Unity and projects like the New International Economic Order sought to forge collective strength against dependency and exploitation.
This shifts the lens. Instead of seeing postcolonial states as failed or incomplete modernities—as the familiar “corruption and collapse” narrative often paints them—Getachew asks us to see them as participants in a radical, if thwarted, experiment in global justice. The disappointment of postcolonial futures, in this light, is not evidence of inherent dysfunction but of the brutal counter-pressures that dismantled ambitious alternatives.
Case in Point: The Return of the World Question
Why does this matter today? Because the postcolonial worldmaking project never fully disappeared—it haunts contemporary politics. The calls for climate reparations at COP summits, South-South solidarity in vaccine distribution, and demands to decolonize international institutions like the IMF and WTO all echo the earlier insistence that sovereignty is meaningless without systemic transformation.
Take the climate crisis. Small island nations, often former colonies, now face existential threats. Their calls for loss-and-damage funds are not appeals to charity but demands rooted in histories of extraction and dispossession. Here, the “worldmaking” impulse resurfaces: justice requires restructuring, not piecemeal aid.
Or consider digital sovereignty. African and Asian states negotiating with tech giants are replaying a postcolonial dilemma: how to assert autonomy in a global infrastructure still controlled by others. Once again, the dream of collective bargaining and structural change shadows the scene.
Decolonizing decolonization
Getachew’s work is not nostalgic. It doesn’t romanticize anticolonial leaders, nor deny the authoritarian turns many postcolonial states took. Instead, it urges us to take their ambitions seriously. To recognize that decolonization was never just about the nation, but about remaking the conditions under which nations coexist.
In a moment where nationalism has resurged—often in narrow, exclusionary forms—Getachew’s reminder is timely: true liberation was always internationalist. The “ghost of self-determination” she identifies is not a specter of failure, but a provocation. It asks whether we still dare to imagine freedom as something larger than sovereignty—as the unfinished project of making a different world.