This chapter addresses the issue of humanitarian aid during a conflict that
today is largely forgotten, the Biafra civil war of the late 1960s, and in
doing so re-examines the question of whether humanitarian aid can do harm in
times of war, by prolonging the conflict. When the International Committee
of the Red Cross (ICRC), complying with international rules, grounded its
planes because federal Nigerian authorities demanded it, the Nigerian Red
Cross (NRC) objected to the decision. This created considerable tension
between the NRC and the ICRC. The chapter discusses the impact of Red Cross
aid to Biafra, the role of the NRC in the conflict and its objection to ICRC
policy in the Biafra crisis.
Applied drama, ‘sympathetic presence’ and person-centred nursing
Matt Jennings, Pat Deeny and Karl Tizzard-Kleister
The practices and principles of nursing are associated with kindness, respect and compassion (Nursing and Midwifery Council, 2016); however, nurses can struggle to maintain these qualities within a dominant ‘mechanistic paradigm’ of care (de Zulueta, 2013: 123). Models such as person-centred nursing (PCN) have emerged as frameworks for improvement, in an effort to maintain these principles (McCormack and McCance, 2010). One key feature of PCN is the concept of ‘sympathetic presence’, which challenges the limitations of empathy and suggests that it is neither desirable nor possible ‘to fully comprehend another individual’s particular experience’ (McCormack and McCance, 2010: 102) – an idea with ramifications for broader arts in health practices. Since 2013, nursing and drama staff and students at Ulster University (UU) have collaborated on an interdisciplinary pedagogical project, using drama techniques to enhance the standard ‘role-play’ simulations for clinical training and assessment. Nursing students have explored traditional ‘applied drama’ approaches, such as image theatre (Augusto Boal, 1998), alongside exercises developed by Constantin Stanislavski for the training of professional actors (Benedetti, 1998). These students have demonstrated improved self-awareness, confidence and communication skills during and after their simulation assessments, developing a deeper understanding of ‘sympathetic presence’ within the nurse–patient relationship.
A comparison between the Dutch Red Cross 1940–1945, and the Dutch East
Indies Red Cross, 1942–1950
Leo van Bergen
This chapter is a case study of the activities of, contexts for and
influences upon Red Cross actions and thinking, specifically within the
context of war, colonialism and power, and of how, theoretically at least,
neutral Red Cross assistance to sick and wounded soldiers was undertaken.
This problem is explored through a comparative analysis of the Nederlandse
Rode Kruis (Dutch Red Cross) in the years when Nazi Germany occupied the
Netherlands (1940–5), and the Nederlands-Indische Rode Kruis (Dutch Indies
Red Cross) through the years of Japanese occupation and the following war of
The British Order of St John of Jerusalem and the Red Cross in the Spanish
civil wars of the 1870s
Jon Arrizabalaga, Guillermo Sánchez-Martínez and J. Carlos García-Reyes
The Third Carlist War confronted the Spanish liberal Government’s troops with
legitimist rebels between 1872 and 1876, and was a baptism of fire for both
the Spanish Red Cross and other, non-Spanish Red Cross organisations that
committed resources to the humanitarian relief effort. Though the British
National Aid Society appears to have refrained from involvement in this long
and bloody war, several members of the British Order of St John of Jerusalem
were active in the theatre of war as volunteer humanitarians. While some of
them, such as Vincent Kennett-Barrington (1844–1903), went to Spain on
behalf of a Society for the Relief of the Sick and Wounded of the Spanish
War, others, such as John Furley (1836–1919), chose to work on behalf of the
Société des Secours aux Blessés Espagnols – a committee settled in Paris
with the unofficial support of the Spanish and French Red Cross. This
chapter examines the mixed motives, activities and ideas of these
international humanitarian volunteers, offering a snapshot of the confused –
and far from unified – ‘spirit of Geneva’ at work in the years immediately
following the signing of the Geneva Convention in 1864.
This chapter sets up the volume by exploring the historiography relating to the issues that provide its focus: the relationship between ‘centre’ and ‘locality’ in the early modern period, and the role of communication – including both print culture and manuscript transmission – within contemporary society. This involves reflecting on ideas and arguments regarding the ‘county community’, and on how historians have tackled crucial issues like the ‘social depth’ of politics, state formation and developments in parliamentary politics, as well as the print revolution, but it also involves suggesting that social and political historians have only rarely found ways of entering into a productive dialogue with each other on these crucial issues. Finally, it highlights the fruitful ways in which the chapters use explorations of communicative practices in order to rethink not just relations between centre and locality but also the ways in such terms ought to be conceptualised.
This introductory chapter establishes the guiding questions, values and theories that inform the dialogue between care and performance developed in this edited collection. This ideas are explored in two ways: first, in the aesthetic field of performance, where performance practices enact a mode of care for other people; and, second, in the context of professional practices of care, where care can be artful, performative and aesthetic. Drawing on the theorisation of caring inaugurated by feminist care ethicists in the 1980s and early 1990s, this chapter introduces a conceptualisation of care as intrinsically performative, embodied and relational, emerging from an engagement of both ‘practice and value’ (Held, 2006: 39). The examination of care through the dimension of performance is an innovative approach to the theorisation of caring practice and is new within the interconnected fields of care ethics and care theory more broadly. By developing an understanding of the performative dimension of care through an engagement with socially engaged performance practice, this edited collection explores the possibility for the development of more caring and careful creative societal practices as well as the development of performance work structured around artful and aesthetic caring encounters.
This introductory chapter outlines the scope and rationale of the book,
establishing its core arguments, conceptual framework, structure, research
questions and contributions. It introduces our understanding of proscription
as a form of political ritual that is as much focused on the performance of
liberal democracy, as the provision of national security. The introduction
situates this approach within our discursive theoretical framework, and sets
out the structure of the chapters that follow.
Between 1649 and 1651, Oliver Cromwell and parliamentarian forces invaded and conquered both Ireland and Scotland. In the wake of these conquests, the regime embarked upon a dramatic state building project in both countries, implementing a variety of administrative, legal, educational, religious and commercial initiatives with the aim of integrating the two countries into the new commonwealth. Despite clear orders from Whitehall on how to build this ‘new’ state, English authorities in Scotland and Ireland quickly ran into problems executing these ambitions. This chapter looks at how circumstances on the ground in interregnum Scotland and Ireland affected the implementation of ideas and institutions. The situations in the two countries provide a particularly unique lens through which to see how communication changed from centre to periphery to ‘sub-periphery’. That is, not only did communication flow from London to Dublin and Edinburgh, but, once in receipt of the information, officials in the Irish and Scottish capitals sent the decrees further onwards to administrators in remote corners of the two countries. Needless to say, the end results in places such as Kerry and Orkney frequently deviated from the original parliamentarian vision.
While most historians analysing the 1620s have focused on Buckingham’s great expeditions – Mansfelt, Cadiz and the Ile de Re – contemporaries, particularly along the east coast, had their eyes on Dunkirkers, comparatively small Spanish warships then eviscerating English shipping. Indeed between late 1625 and early 1628, these Flemish corsairs captured no fewer than 522 English vessels. Several dozen Parliament-men in 1626 loudly and repeatedly complained about this situation, but aside from periodic bland reassurances, Buckingham apparently did nothing. Yet thanks to Add. MSS 37,816-7, we can see that Buckingham did respond to the complaints. In addition to repositioning naval assets to guard coastal shipping, he repeatedly exhorted his captains to try harder, rewarding those who did and punishing those who did not. He also pressed for the acquisition of small, more manageable warships which had some hope of catching Dunkirkers, and he organised relief schemes for those Britons imprisoned in Flemish jails. Furthermore, he constantly harped on these and many other counter-measures, all in the hope of soothing parliamentary critics. What makes this blizzard of orders so astonishing is that they effectively ended with the parliamentary dissolution.
When scholars investigate the spreading of news, print plays a dominant role and if manuscript comes into play at all it is usually in the form of the newsletter. Letters usually take a back seat. This begs the question, what kind of news did people send by the post and what kind of ties did it create between centre and locality? This chapter uses the letters sent to Theophilus Hastings, the 7th Earl of Huntingdon, to answer this question. An inspection of these letters reveals two kinds of news correspondents and two kinds of news that circulated through letters. Hastings received his news from official correspondents, individuals from whom he solicited news and only news, and from family dependants during their travels. However, this conduit for news worked both ways. News from the locality mattered as much as ‘Citie News’. When Hastings travelled to London dependants sent him ‘Countrie News’ or ‘home news’. This type of news is often left unexamined. However, it was just as important for Hastings to be up to date on the politics of the parish as it was for him to know the politics of the nation.