Deporting Black Britons provides an ethnographic account of deportation from the UK to Jamaica. It traces the painful stories of four men who were deported after receiving criminal convictions in the UK. For each of the men, all of whom had moved to the UK as children, deportation was lived as exile – from parents, partners, children and friends – and the book offers portraits of survival and hardship in both the UK and Jamaica. Based on over four years of research, Deporting Black Britons describes the human consequences of deportation, while situating deportation stories within the broader context of policy, ideology, law and violence. It examines the relationship between racism, criminalisation and immigration control in contemporary Britain, suggesting new ways of thinking about race, borders and citizenship in these anti-immigrant times. Ultimately, the book argues that these stories of exile and banishment should orient us in the struggle against violent immigration controls, in the UK and elsewhere.
At a time when monolingualist claims for the importance of ‘speaking English’ to the national order continue louder than ever, even as language diversity is increasingly part of contemporary British life, literature becomes a space to consider the terms of linguistic belonging. Bad English examines writers including Tom Leonard, James Kelman, Suhayl Saadi, Raman Mundair, Daljit Nagra, Xiaolu Guo, Leila Aboulela, Brian Chikwava, and Caroline Bergvall, who engage multilingually, experimentally, playfully, and ambivalently with English’s power. Considering their invented vernaculars and mixed idioms, their dramatised scenes of languaging – languages learned or lost, acts of translation, scenes of speaking, the exposure and racialised visibility of accent – it argues for a growing field of contemporary literature in Britain pre-eminently concerned with language’s power dynamics, its aesthetic potentialities, and its prosthetic strangeness. Drawing on insights from applied linguistics and translation studies as well as literary scholarship, Bad English explores contemporary arguments about language in Britain – in debates about citizenship or education, in the media or on Twitter, in Home Office policy and asylum legislation – as well as the ways they are taken up in literature. It uncovers both an antagonistic and a productive interplay between language politics and literary form, tracing writers’ articulation of linguistic alienation and ambivalence, as well as the productivity and making-new of radical language practices. Doing so, it refutes the view that language difference and language politics are somehow irrelevant to contemporary Britain and instead argues for their constitutive centrality to the work of novelists and poets whose inside/outside relationship to English in its institutionalised forms is the generative force of their writing.
In 1960–62, a large number of white autochthonous parents in Southall became very concerned that the sudden influx of largely non-Anglophone Indian immigrant children in local schools would hold back their children’s education. It was primarily to placate such fears that ‘dispersal’ (or ‘bussing’) was introduced in areas such as Southall and Bradford, as well as to promote the integration of mostly Asian children. It consisted in sending busloads of immigrant children to predominantly white suburban schools, in an effort to ‘spread the burden’. This form of social engineering went on until the early 1980s. This book, by mobilising local and national archival material as well as interviews with formerly bussed pupils in the 1960s and 1970s, reveals the extent to which dispersal was a flawed policy, mostly because thousands of Asian pupils were faced with racist bullying on the playgrounds of Ealing, Bradford, etc. It also investigates the debate around dispersal and the integration of immigrant children, e.g. by analysing the way some Local Education Authorities (Birmingham, London) refused to introduce bussing. It studies the various forms that dispersal took in the dozen or so LEAs where it operated. Finally, it studies local mobilisations against dispersal by ethnic associations and individuals. It provides an analysis of debates around ‘ghetto schools’, ‘integration’, ‘separation’, ‘segregation’ where quite often the US serves as a cognitive map to make sense of the English situation.
This volume aims to disclose the political, social and cultural factors that
influenced the sanitary measures against epidemics developed in the
Mediterranean during the long nineteenth century. The contributions to the book
provide new interdisciplinary insights to the booming field of ‘quarantine
studies’ through a systematic use of the analytic categories of space, identity
and power. The ultimate goal is to show the multidimensional nature of
quarantine, the intimate links that sanitary administrations and institutions
had with the territorial organization of states, international trade, the
construction of national, colonial, religious and professional identities or the
configuration of political regimes. The circum-Mediterranean geographical spread
of the case studies contained in this volume illuminates the similarities and
differences around and across this sea, on the southern and northern shores, in
Arabic, Spanish, Portuguese, Greek, Italian, English and French-speaking
domains. At the same time, it is highly interested in engaging in the global
English-speaking community, offering a wide range of terms, sources,
bibliography, interpretative tools and views produced and elaborated in various
Mediterranean countries. The historical approach will be useful to recognize the
secular tensions that still lie behind present-day issues such as the return of
epidemics or the global flows of migrants and refugees.
volume fits into the first and last categories mentioned. Whilst it addresses a host of issues, ranging from the intensification of geosectarian conflict between Saudi Arabia and Iran, riyal politik and regional challengers such as Turkey and Qatar, it also assesses the impact these issues have on more traditional themes such as state survival and the relative autonomy of the Horn states.
Thematic and conceptual approach
The Gulf states in this volume refers primarily to the assertive politics, foreign policies and growing
Karl Polanyi (1886–1964) returned to public discourse in the 1990s, when the Soviet Union imploded and globalization erupted. Best known for The Great Transformation, Polanyi’s wide-ranging thought anticipated twenty-first-century civilizational challenges of ecological collapse, social disintegration and international conflict, and warned that the unbridled domination of market capitalism would engender nationalist protective counter-movements. In Karl Polanyi and Twenty-First-Century Capitalism, Radhika Desai and Kari Polanyi Levitt bring together prominent and new thinkers in the field to extend the boundaries of our understanding of Polanyi's life and work. Kari Polanyi Levitt's opening essay situates Polanyi in the past century shaped by Keynes and Hayek, and explores how and why his ideas may shape the twenty-first century. Her analysis of his Bennington Lectures, which pre-dated and anticipated The Great Transformation, demonstrates how Central European his thought and chief concerns were. The next several contributions clarify, for the first time in Polanyi scholarship, the meaning of money as a fictitious commodity. Other contributions resolve difficulties in understanding the building blocks of Polanyi's thought: fictitious commodities, the double movement, the United States' exceptional development, the reality of society and socialism as freedom in a complex society. The volume culminates in explorations of how Polanyi has influenced, and can be used to develop, ideas in a number of fields, whether income inequality, world-systems theory or comparative political economy. Contributors: Fred Block, Michael Brie, Radhika Desai, Michael Hudson, Hannes Lacher, Kari Polanyi Levitt, Chikako Nakayama, Jamie Peck, Abraham Rotstein, Margaret Somers, Claus Thomasberger, Oscar Ugarteche Galarza.
Printing Terror places horror comics of the mid-twentieth century in dialogue with the anxieties of their age. It rejects the narrative of horror comics as inherently and necessarily subversive and explores, instead, the ways in which these texts manifest white male fears over America’s changing sociological landscape. It examines two eras: the pre-CCA period of the 1940s and 1950s, and the post-CCA era to 1975. The authors examine each of these periods through the lenses of war, gender, and race, demonstrating that horror comics are centred upon white male victimhood and the monstrosity of the gendered and/or racialised other. It is of interest to scholars of horror, comics studies, and American history. It is suitably accessible to be used in undergraduate classes.
for different reasons. The fact that the cases stand out as particularly successful means that they are chosen for their exemplarity, and not because they are typical of diplomatic performance in general. Kennedy’s performance was successful because the ambassador was held to be presentable in the sense of being clean and smart. The second performance, of how a Norwegian ambassador to Tehran delivered her credentials to the Iranian head of state, was held to be presentable in the sense of being decent. I decode the different ways in which these performances were
repercussions across the region, as a consequence of the spread of identities across
the Middle East, meaning that what happens within the borders of one state can have
Reverberations from events such as the establishment of the state of Israel, the
Suez Crisis, the 1967 war, the Iranian Revolution, the 2003 invasion of Iraq, the 2005
Cedar Revolution and the Arab Uprisings were felt across the Middle East, shaping
the regional security environment. The establishment of states, either in an attempt
to politically represent an existing nationality, or
understanding a social phenomenon that is presumed to pre-exist its definition, but rather it is a deconstructive approach claiming that the way we conceive of, represent and narrate a
problem is what makes the ‘truth’ of this problem (Pfohl, 1985: 230). In the
case of LGBT asylum, there are many countries of origin for which the information available in the UK is fragmentary at best; even for countries ‘famous’
for their homophobia, like Iran, there is much uncertainty about what exactly
happens there, and how.1 In this context the ‘real facts’ of homophobia in
Iran and the