ABSTRACT
Boundaries occupy a curiously ambivalent position in any geographical ontology. On the one hand, it seems uncontentious that the primary spatial elements of geography are regions of various kinds: regions are where we live and where things are located. From this point of view, boundaries are only of interest because they define the limits of regions. But precisely because of this, boundaries can acquire a life of their own. The existence of a boundary can have a palpable effect on the behaviour of objects and people in its vicinity. Disputes over territory automatically become focussed into disputes over boundaries, and the boundary itself can become a symbol for the territory it delineates: ‘Not only do boundaries give the country a shape, but they suggest a uniformity within that shape which separates it from the outside, from what is alien and foreign’ (Dorling and Fairbairn, 1997). Indeed, in ordinary speech there is a slippage between ‘within this region/area/territory’ and ‘within these boundaries/limits/borders’, pointing to the ease with which we can pass between thinking in terms of regions and thinking in terms of boundaries. The history of language itself can illustrate this. The English word town, for example, is derived from an Old English word tun, meaning an enclosure. It is related to the Dutch tuin which means a garden, an enclosure containing trees, grass and flowers rather than streets and buildings. The original meaning of the word appears to have been not the area enclosed but the fence or hedge which does the enclosing. This meaning persists in the cognate German form Zaun, which refers to the fence or hedge itself, not an enclosed area.
