The white man's burden on global tourism

Shahnaz Habib's book delves into fundamental questions: Why travel? Where to travel to? And what to see once we're there? In the process infusing a philosophical edge into the concept of travel

Airplane Mode: A Passive-Aggressive History of travel

Author: Shahnaz Habib

Publisher: Westland Books

Pages: 277

Price:  Rs 699

On her travels to Konya in central Turkey, a carpet seller she has befriended asks Shahnaz Habib where she’s from. When she replies, “Hindistan”, the Turkish word for India, he immediately guesses that she doesn’t live there. How so? Because she’s travelling around. “Only Americans, British, Australians, and Japanese travel,” he says.

His astute observation takes her back to her first year in graduate school, to a job talk by a travel videographer looking to hire a crew for documentaries. Among other things, his presentation delves into the travel habits of different demographics, concluding with this punch line: “People from the Third World do not travel; they immigrate.”

Born in Kerala and now living in Brooklyn, Ms Habib identifies as a Third World-raised woman and an immigrant. She also identifies as a traveller. And as she travels, she notices things, such as how her Third World identity makes her a less carefree and confident traveller than one from the privileged White world; how the traveller’s itinerary and worldview has been laid out by the White gaze; and how stereotypical perceptions of people and places continue to be reinforced through travel guides, which are written primarily by and for the White traveller.

Her book, Airplane Mode , is a unique exploration of the complexity of travel and tourism, which is sometimes rooted in violence. “Militourism,” the interlinking of militarism and tourism, is a case in point. The book is also a cultural critique of travel history peppered with personal anecdotes, sometimes funny, but mostly thought-provoking. She turns the spotlight on the many shades of colonialism and geopolitical dynamics that have shaped what the oblivious tourist today looks upon as leisure travel.

Paris, and the calibrated effort that went into turning it into “the most visited city in the world” and the “gateway drug for the rest of Europe”, is one of many examples she presents. She traces the emergence of American Francophilia, tying it up with the Marshall Plan, which was conceived by the US, on the face of it with the aim of aiding the economic recovery of European countries after World War II, but which in effect helped America secure its influence over the region.

This story of Paris emerges from her own harrowing experience in the city and not as a listicle of all things that are skewed in favour of people who hold passports that are weightier than others. What makes this an engaging book is that Ms Habib’s scrutiny of the history of travel isn’t undertaken as an academic exercise. It is borne of her experiences, and narrated that way.

It is also not a Third World-raised traveller’s rant about biases and discriminations, however deep-seated they might be and however ignorant the well-meaning section of the privileged White world might be about them.

Part of this well-meaning White world is her husband, who, with his American passport that allows him to walk into France visa-free, finds himself at his wit’s end as he tries to secure her French visa. While he manages to conquer the long list of documents demanded, what does him in is the requirement for a passport photo where her hairline and ears ought to be visible (“Why why why?” he exclaims).

Ms Habib’s fraught relationship with her passport leads to the subject of passportism, and the evolution of the document that once served as a kind of entry permit rather than a proof of nationality. What was meant to be a metaphor for mobility and a document of access is today used to prevent travel or keep people out.

Passportism, she writes, can strike at unexpected moments, citing Amartya Sen’s ordeal. In 1999, a year after he had won the Nobel Prize in Economics, Sen was detained and questioned by the Zurich airport police while on his way to speak at the World Economic Forum in Davos because he was an Indian passport holder without a visa.

The fear of Third World passports, she writes, is not just a simple East-West binary. It has also fuelled massive business opportunities and created new avenues in global real estate and finance. Arton Capital, a Canada-based firm that provides services for global citizenship, is an example. And then there are the shifting ratings on the passport index that reflect shifting geopolitical realities.

A delightful personality who features in these pages is Ms Habib’s father, who, unlike her, abhors travelling. He’d rather indulge in things he is genuinely curious about, like investigating vegetables in a foreign country, than visit touristy spots such as the Statue of Liberty, Times Square or the Empire State Building, or ride by the White House (“Why? What is there?”).

Nuggets such as these also lend a philosophical edge to the idea of travel. Why travel? Where to travel to? And what to see once we’re there? Who should decide this? Movies like An American in Paris? Or that Lonely Planet guide, written by…. who and for whom?

With literature, popular culture and academic research as its frequently referred to travel companions, Airplane Mode  makes for an engaging inquiry into the world of travel as we see it — or don’t.