The #EndRapeCulture campaign in 2016 in South Africa, an online movement as well as a set of direct actions, preceded the #MeToo campaign in 2017, which was never taken up in South Africa to the extent it was in other parts of the world. The campaign was characterised by topless marches of women students against practices, attitudes and perceptions that normalise sexual violence in South Africa. These were different to the more global slutwalks in that they were marked by powerful expressions of anger and rage. This chapter compares #EndRapeCulture with #MeToo, analysing similarities and differences as well as the use of online spaces and social media in both campaigns. It also looks at the backlash against cases of sexual violence that have gone to court in South Africa (such as the recent high profile Cherryl Zondi vs Pastor Omotoso case), where the secondary victimisation of due process often prevents women from speaking out. The Omotoso case is interesting for its secondary victimisation but also for technical issues that contributed to the judge recusing himself, meaning that the rape survivor now has to go through the same hearing for a second time. Lastly, the chapter asks questions about the type of feminism that allows for solidarity in #EndRapeCulture or prevents it, particularly given that white women students were reluctant to join in the topless marches.
This final chapter summarises the key contributions that emerge from the volume as a whole and develops their significance in terms of how they might be used to rethink the bigger picture of how corruption has informed – and undermined – the making of a democratic state in modern Britain. In particular, it cautions against dominant social-scientific approaches and argues for the essentially political nature of corruption, both as an analytical category and as a problem of governance. It then turns to how the volume opens up new ways of engaging the historic peculiarities of the British case, arguing that existing social-scientific accounts fail to accord enough importance to the British Empire. Once we put the British Empire back into the picture, it suggests, we end up with a decidedly more complex, and above all critical, sense of Britain’s status as a historic pioneer of clean government. It ends by once more affirming the essentially political nature of corruption.
The exclusive economic zone (EEZ) is a zone extending 200 nautical miles seawards from the baseline. Within it, a coastal State has the right to exploit and manage the natural resources of the zone (including fish and renewable energy) and the jurisdiction to regulate, to varying degrees, the construction of installations, the conduct of scientific research and the discharge of pollutants. Other States have the right for their ships and aircraft to traverse the EEZ and its airspace, and to lay cable and pipelines. After explaining the genesis of the EEZ and how the zone is delineated, the chapter provides a detailed analysis of the respective rights of coastal States and other States in the EEZ, including the question of whether they may engage in military activities there. It also explores the mechanisms for regulating possible conflicts between the exercise of their respective rights by coastal and other States, as well as conflicts over activities that do not fall within the group of enumerated rights of either category of State. A coastal State has a choice as to whether to claim an EEZ. The final part of the chapter examines the extent to which States have exercised that option, and suggests possible reasons why a small number of coastal States have chosen not to establish an EEZ.
Sexual violence and harassment across South African universities is not a new phenomenon. In recent years, however, incidents of rape, sexual violence, and sexual and gender violations were brought to public attention as part of the Fallist moment. Importantly, sexual violence and harassment also found a place in the agenda of student protests as students began to critically discuss experiences of harassment and violence on campuses. Criticisms included the reactive rather than proactive nature of sexual harassment policies and further problematised the neglect of incorporating victim-centred approaches. The University of the Witwatersrand (Wits) is one of the universities that received such criticism, particularly related to the lack of sensitivity, victim-shaming and the absence of a holistic approach when dealing with sexual violence and harassment cases. Drawing on an interview with Jackie Dugard, the first Director of the Gender Equity Office and current co-chair of the Sexual Harassment Advisory Committee at the university, this chapter reflects historically on how Wits has dealt with sexual violence and harassment on campus. Reflecting on Dugard’s experiences in relation to sexual harassment and sexual violence cases at Wits, the chapter presents her thoughts on the Gender Equity Office’s successes and challenges over the years and offers suggestions in trying to deal with sexual violence on campuses.
Understanding changes in the legal landscape of sexual harassment in India
This chapter shows how the #MeToo moment in India became an important turning point for the engagement of Indian women’s movements with legal processes Based on an autoethnographic account of being a member of university committees framing anti-sexual harassment policies and dealing with complaints, it also examines the specific site of complaints committees in Indian higher education institutions in the context of #MeToo. Finally, in mapping vast changes to the legal and institutional landscape of sexual harassment in India, it reflects on the ‘messiness’ of these spaces and insists on the role of care and conversation in feminist debates and their engagements with the law and university complaints processes.
The chapter examines how the problem of corruption evolved within the context of police reform, from the mid-eighteenth century, amid the first systematic attempts to redefine the nature and organisation of policing in London, through to the birth and institutionalisation of the ‘new police’ during the Victorian and Edwardian periods. It seeks to historicise what became – and remains – an established mode of posing the problem of police corruption – that is, corruption as the result of the actions of a handful of malign, negligent officers on the one hand, and corruption as the result of more systemic defects of professional culture and institutional organisation on the other. This emerged during second half the eighteenth century, when it was argued that new forms of organisational ‘system’ would overcome the corruption and inefficiency of what became known as the ‘old police’. At this point, however, the problem was still entangled with more degenerative conceptions of corruption inherited from earlier centuries. Only with the advent of the ‘new police’ from the 1850s did the form of debate change decisively, coming to focus more clearly on problems of individual agency versus the corrupting aspects of institutionalisation itself and the effectiveness of organisational controls for preventing it. Ultimately, as a number of scandals from the late Victorian and Edwardian periods suggest, though the problem of corruption was now posed in recognisably modern, office-based terms, it could appear just as entrenched and opaque as it had been under the ‘old police’.
This chapter discusses the aesthetic of refusal as it is articulated in contemporary performances in India and South Africa while the debates around the #MeToo movement continue to sadden, agitate and exhaust womxn around the globe. In the aftermath of the Indian Supreme Court acquitting the Chief Justice of India of all sexual harassment charges in May 2019, feminists are beginning to feel let down by the failed promises of the movement. The incessant pressure to vocalise narratives of sexual harassment preclude self-care, rest and strategic (non) productivity by burdening womxn with the emotional labour of reliving the trauma in public. This chapter discusses the artistic works of Thandiwe Msebenzi and Lebohang Motaung in South Africa, and Vijila Chirappad, Vanitha Mathil (women’s wall) and Blank Noise in India to explore their engagement with rest, sleep, beauty, stillness and community as forms of performing radical resistance. The artists and performers discussed highlight the workings of racialised capitalism and raise questions about labour and production – who has the right to leisure and who needs to keep working – and how they are intertwined with markers of class, caste, sexuality and gender. The discussion affirms the affective potential of art and performance as a powerful mode of creating community while #MeToo exhausts our faith in the legal infrastructures of the state.
Configurations of con/destructive affective activism in women’s organising
June Jordan’s simultaneously poignant lament and re-assertion of asserting a (gendered) self into existence in Poem about my Rights is a reminder of affect’s ideological and political capacity. This function of affect to both interrupt and disrupt hegemonies of inequalities calls attention to its constructive deployment in #MeToo within the South African context. And yet, how particular affective attachments and identifications are governed from within – in ways that not only reproduce heteronormative hegemonies, but in effect, let power off the hook – cannot be ignored. The chapter is concerned with these con(de)structive roles in the deployment of certain affect-positions that are selectively attached to particular bodies within the South African context. For example, how homophobic fury as well as embodied (gendered) pain becomes functional in sustaining passionate attachments and divisions in the fight against gender-based violence. Negation of trans, lesbian and gay experiences of gender violence from within some spaces of the #MeToo movement within this context thus deploys affective technologies of governance that do the work of erasure through indictment. The chapter makes these arguments of the con(de)structive capacity of affective activism with the use of case examples from South Africa. These modes of affective technologies must be grappled with if we are to fully engage the broader governmental logics of gendered violence in society.
Corruption is fundamentally about the blurring of the distinction between public life and private interests. In Victorian Britain the reform of endowed institutions was a key arena for the renegotiation of these boundaries, and it was one that sharply divided Liberals from Conservatives. A series of controversies pitted the Liberals’ reforming programme against the Conservative defence of endowments. These included the opening up of Oxford and Cambridge to non-Anglicans, the disendowment of the Irish church, the secularisation of the governing bodies of endowed schools under the terms of the Endowed Schools Act of 1869 and the abortive attempt in the 1880s to assert public control over the endowments of the City livery companies. This chapter elucidates the distinctive position developed by Gladstonian Liberals on the question of endowments. It focuses in particular on the stance taken by a number of Gladstonians and their role in endowment controversies, notably through their work on a sequence of royal commissions – among them key figures such as Lord Lyttelton, James Bryce, Henry Roby and Joshua Fitch. In doing so, the chapter deepens our understanding of some of the forgotten dimensions of institutional reform in Victorian Britain, and the distinctive contribution of Gladstonian Liberalism to shaping modern notions of public service and corruption.
Puritans, conformity and the challenge of Laudianism
This chapter takes issue with the idea that Laudianism posed an existential threat to puritanism, and it argues that, despite plentiful evidence about the prosecution of puritan ministers and lay people, of emigration and of exile, there remains scope to rethink the religious issues and divisions of the period. This is achieved by reflecting on debates amongst puritans during the 1640s, as Presbyterians and Independents traded blows over how their rivals had gone too far in accommodating and conforming themselves to, Laudian reforms, and over who had the best credentials as anti-Laudians. These debates, which constitute contests for legitimacy, and which are evident in contemporary printed exchanges, are valuable for shining light upon evidence regarding those puritans who proved willing to contemplate partial conformity with undesirable reforms and policies in the decades before the civil wars. Such conformity involved an awkward and neglected process, and its recovery is important for addressing some of the more problematic aspects of the Laudian experience for England’s godly, as well as for recovering overlooked possibilities that once existed for rapprochement between puritans and the Caroline regime, and for an alternative policy trajectory during the personal rule.