Whether or not globalization is a form of colonialization will of course depend on specific locations. It's been fashionable for some time now to bemoan the way Western capitalist culture has infiltrated and tainted "pure" non-Western cultures, but one thing that is often overlooked is that some geographical areas--Tibet comes to mind--openly embrace the importation of Western culture, which they see (rightly or wrongly) as a sign of affluence and betterment.
I work in close proximity to anthropologists, and it's almost comical (but still lamentable) how much they fit the streotype of academic ethnology: predominately well-to-do, white Americans protecting non-Western "native" cultures without ever questioning whether these cultures want their help. It is considered self-evident that globalization is something that is imposed upon, never embraced by, an "endangered" culture. The paradox of this kind of reasoning is that it comes out of a desire to protect the rights of an endangered culture but amounts to the anthropologist claiming that he or she knows better than they do what is best for that culture.
The RSA (Royal Society for the Encouragement of Arts, Manufacture and Commerce) ran an interesting article a few years ago (which I've posted before) entitled
The Case for Contamination. It's partly about the cultural practices of a town in Ghana, but is broadly about the politics of globalization in general. Here are some excerpts:
Quote:When people talk of the homogeneity produced by globalisation, what they are talking about is this: even here, the villagers will have radios (though the language will be local); you will be able to find a bottle of Guinness or Coca-Cola (as well as of Star or Club, Ghana's own fine lagers). But has access to these things made the place more homogeneous or less? And what can you tell about people's souls from the fact that they drink Coca-Cola?
It's true that the enclaves of homogeneity you find these days - in Asante as in Pennsylvania - are less distinctive that they were a century ago, but mostly in good ways. More of them have access to effective medicines. More of them have access to clean drinking water, and more of them have schools. Where, as is still too common, they don't have these things, it's something not to celebrate but to deplore. And whatever loss of difference there has been, they are constantly inventing new forms of difference: new hairstyles, new slang, even, from time to time, new religions. No one could say that the world's villagers are becoming anything like the same.