Developed through a series of encounters with a Bosnian Serb soldier Stojan Sokolović, this book is a meditation on the possibilities and limitations of responding to the extreme violence of the Bosnian war. It explores the ethics of confronting the war criminal and investigates the possibility of responsibility not just to victims of war and war crimes, but also to the perpetrators of violence. The book explains how Stojan Sokolović attenuated the author to the fact that he was responsible, to everyone, all the time, and for everything. It exposes the complexity of the categories of good and evil. Silence is also the herald of violence, or its co-conspirator. The author and Stojan Sokolović were trapped in violence, discursive and material, and discursive that leads to material, and material that emanates from and leads back to discursive. Two years after beginning his research into identity and the politics of conflict in Bosnia and Kosovo, the author got the opportunity to visit the region presented itself. According to the vast majority of the literature of the 1990s on Bosnia, it was clear that the biggest problem with nationalist violence and intolerance was to be found in Republika Srpska. The book is the author's discourse on a variety of experiences, including those of ethics, politics, disasters, technologies, fieldwork, adventure tourism, and dilemmas.
The history of relief work is in its infancy. This book draws on new archival research to reveal the priorities of nineteenth-century relief workers, and the legacies of their preoccupations for relief work today. It first explores the inauguration of the British National Society for Aid to the Sick and Wounded in War (NAS) at the outbreak of the Franco-Prussian War in 1870 under the figurehead of Loyd Lindsay. Then, the book sees the revival of the NAS for work in the Balkans during a period of nationalist violence and Ottoman counter-insurgency which culminated in the Russo-Turkish War of 1877-1878. It also follows the staff of relief committees as they dispensed aid in British colonial wars. The book examines the critiques of British policy in the Boer War (1899-1902) emanating from intersecting circles of Quakers, New Liberals and ethicists, and considers these groups' offer of aid to Boer civilians. Further, the book concentrates on the methodologies of relief for Boer inmates of British concentration camps in South Africa and on the implications of this relief for its intended recipients during and after the war. It concentrates on aid to British soldiers. The book closes by tracing continuities in vocational practices and dispositions to emerging areas of concern in the post-war period, in particular child welfare, and briefly considers their implication for relief work today.
In times of national security, scholars and activists who hail from the
communities under suspicion attempt to draw readers and listeners to the
complexity of the world we inhabit. For those who campaigned against the SUS law
in the 1980s, when young Black men were being routinely stopped in the streets,
the wave of counter-terrorism legislation and policy that exists today will be
very familiar. Similarly, recent discussions about the impact of drill music in
the culture of young Black men has drawn questions around the ways in which they
should be securitised, with senior police calling for the use of terrorism
legislation against them. In this environment, when those who study and have
lived alongside the communities who are at the scrutiny of the state raise
questions about the government, military and police policy, they are often shut
down as terrorist-sympathisers, or apologists for gang culture. In such
environments, there is an expectation on scholars and activists to condemn what
society at large fears. This volume is about how that expectation has emerged
alongside the normalisation of racism, and how these writers choose to subvert
the expectations raised on them, as part of their commitment to anti-racism.
The Arab–Israeli conflict has been at the centre of international affairs for decades. Despite repeated political efforts, the confrontation and casualties continue, especially in fighting between Israelis and Palestinians. This new assessment emphasizes the role that military force plays in blocking a diplomatic resolution. Many Arabs and Israelis believe that the only way to survive or to be secure is through the development, threat, and use of military force and violence. This idea is deeply flawed and results in missed diplomatic opportunities and growing insecurity. Coercion cannot force rivals to sign a peace agreement to end a long-running conflict. Sometimes negotiations and mutual concessions are the key to improving the fate of a country or national movement. Using short historical case studies from the 1950s through to today, the book explores and pushes back against the dominant belief that military force leads to triumph while negotiations and concessions lead to defeat and further unwelcome challenges. In The sword is not enough, we learn both what makes this idea so compelling to Arab and Israeli leaders and how it eventually may get dislodged.
these the most proliﬁc and prominent have been the philosopher
Fernando Savater and the literary critic Jon Juaristi.7 I have argued elsewhere that Juaristi’s highly personalised history of Basque nationalism,
as developed in his best-selling book El bucle melancólico,8 betrays a
privileging of patriarchal political lineages and a denigration of the feminine – including the association of femininity with the worst excesses of
radical nationalistviolence – that mirror in signiﬁcant ways the gender
politics of Basque nationalism.9 Similarly
Nationalism has reasserted itself today as the political force of our times, remaking European politics wherever one looks. Britain is no exception, and in the midst of Brexit, it has even become a vanguard of nationalism's confident return to the mainstream. Brexit, in the course of generating a historically unique standard of sociopolitical uncertainty and constitutional intrigue, tore apart the two-party compact that had defined the parameters of political contestation for much of twentieth-century Britain. This book offers a wide-ranging picture of the different theoretical accounts relevant to addressing nationalism. It briefly repudiates the increasingly common attempts to read contemporary politics through the lens of populism. The book explores the assertion of 'muscular liberalism' and civic nationalism. It examines more traditional, conservative appeals to racialised notions of blood, territory, purity and tradition as a means of reclaiming the nation. The book also examines how neoliberalism, through its recourse to discourses of meritocracy, entrepreneurial self and individual will, alongside its exaltation of a 'points-system' approach to the ills of immigration, engineers its own unique rendition of the nationalist crisis. There are a number of important themes through which the process of liberal nationalism can be documented - what Arun Kundnani captured, simply and concisely, as the entrenchment of 'values racism'. These include the 'faux-feminist' demonisation of Muslims.
La caza/The Hunt and El jardín de las delicias/The Garden of
sublimated aggression of the outwardly timid Franco.’ (Preston, 2000 : 65) It is not therefore surprising that the theme of hunting emerges in a number of oppositional films produced in Spain, notably Furtivos/Poachers (José Luis Boras, Spain, 1975), and La escopeta nacional/National Shotgun (García Berlanga, Spain, 1978). In The Hunt, the veterans’ activities and the hunt’s increasingly violent nature invite parallels with Nationalistviolence during the civil war and with the repressive post-civil war dictatorship. References to a non-specified previous war are
-Indian lights, for Indian women similarly to engage in
imperial politics on violent terms.
The threat of nationalistviolence even penetrated the
sanctum of the Anglo-Indian bungalow. Olivia Hamilton, the wife of a
Forest Service officer, slept with a gun under her pillow whenever
violent political disturbances threatened. 85 Living in Sind in 1918,
which she described as ‘the edge of a
’s response here specifically to highlight the double
standard in the response between the way that White
nationalistviolence is treated in comparison to that carried
out by people of colour.
While I began writing this introduction about the ways in
which the question of condemnation has personal significance in my life and work, the bringing together of this
volume was much more about attempting to understand
the culture of condemnation as a lived experience by those
who are subject most directly to its logic. Scholars and
activists across the Western world, who have
carried out. Military
Male warriors and homefront heroines
actions and fathering children belonged to different aspects of activist
life, yet both involved in their own way the reproduction of radical
nationalism and nationalistviolence.
These competing yet ultimately complementary forms of masculinity
appear with particular persistence in the memories of the second narrator (#17) above. This interview communicates more than any other the
emotional and political intensities of life of the exile community in France
during the late 1970s and early 1980s. Since I