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Decolonization in East Africa was more than a political event: it was a step towards economic self-determination. In this innovative book, historian and anthropologist Kevin Donovan analyses the contradictions of economic sovereignty and citizenship in Tanzania, Kenya and Uganda, placing money, credit, and smuggling at the center of the region's shifting fortunes. Using detailed archival and ethnographic research undertaken across the region, Donovan reframes twentieth century statecraft and argues that self-determination was, at most, partially fulfilled, with state monetary infrastructures doing as much to produce divisions and inequality as they did to produce nations. A range of dissident practices, including smuggling and counterfeiting, arose as people produced value on their own terms. Weaving together discussions of currency controls, bank nationalizations and coffee smuggling with wider conceptual interventions, Money, Value and the State traces the struggles between bankers, bureaucrats, farmers and smugglers that shaped East Africa's postcolonial political economy.
Farage also used ‘we’ to show that he identified with ‘the people’. The ideas underlying this phrase need to be understood in their historical context, since they vary depending on particular national histories, but all share a common ancestor in ancient Greek and Roman thinkers. British democracy needs to be traced back to British thinkers such as Buchanan, Hobbes and the philosophers of the Enlightenment. This is relevant because the historical discourse surrounding the phrase ‘the people’ was central to the development of democracy, and is continuous with today’s challenges to it. The various notions of ‘the people’ were connected with the ‘sovereignty of the people’ and the ‘sovereignty of parliament’, the latter being expressly challenged by populist parties like UKIP, in favour of direct democracy, and the same trend was evident in the post-referendum governments. The expression ‘the common people’ played an important role in British political discourse. Its early meaning changed radically until it was replaced by ‘ordinary people’, which in the Brexiter demagoguery was equated with ‘the people’, in opposition to ‘the elite’.
This article examines how Indigenous Peoples who depend on World Heritage sites for their culture and livelihood can appeal to the Committee when State Parties fail to comply with their obligations. While scholars criticize the World Heritage Convention for the lack of participation of Indigenous Peoples, particularly in the inscription and management processes, the framework of the Convention also allows representation and visibility. Indeed, compliance mechanisms offer opportunities for Indigenous advocates to negotiate Land sovereignty and environmental protection. TWAIL, which places the worldview of Indigenous Peoples at the center of legal practice, is crucial to understanding the interactions between Indigenous Peoples and the 1972 UNESCO Convention. TWAILers highlight how international law historically denies sovereignty rights to Indigenous Peoples. Article 6(1) echoes this absence of sovereignty. This article examines three cases in which Indigenous advocates petition to protect Native Lands against environmental degradations and colonization: Kakadu, Wood Buffalo, and Uluru. Ultimately, the challenges of Indigenous activists in their quest to preserve nature and culture reveal that the absence of sovereignty prerogatives remains a substantial issue. While the Convention provides a venue for advocacy and international awareness, Indigenous Peoples still must negotiate Land autonomy and cultural sovereignty with the State.
This chapter focuses on the Noncooperation Movement (1920–1922) and, in particular, the role played by Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi. The NCM was the largest political movement for swaraj that India had ever seen. As the leader of this movement, Gandhi would demand noncooperators refuse mercy, and if necessary, sacrifice their lives in pursuit of political freedom. For Gandhi, it was only by reclaiming the right to die a political death that the satyagrahi could finally escape the label of the criminal and the category of rebellion. The chapter studies the place of mercy in Gandhian thought by paying close attention to his response to the Amritsar Massacre, his public speeches and writings, and his performance in his trial for sedition in 1922. As I argue, by embracing guilt and rejecting mercy, Gandhi threatened to finally explode the political conditions upon which imperial sovereignty had been organized.
Nikki Hessell’s “Romantic Poetry and Constructions of Indigeneity” understands the Romantic racialization of Indigenous peoples as means of denying these groups sovereignty. The trope of the Indian in representative European texts is, by this reading, complicit with the “desire to own, define, and administer everything.” By reading Romantic poetry for its recurring tropes, however, we can also locate the Romantic tradition in the work of those generally excluded from conversations about Romanticism. Thus Hessell reads Romanticism in the works of Indigenous poets Jane Johnston Schoolcraft (Ojibwe) and John Rollin Ridge (Cherokee). This is not merely a matter of expanding the Romantic canon; rather, by centering those whose presence in Romantic literature has generally been restricted to object of interest, Hessell shows that those who have been used as tropes are wielders of Romantic tropes in their own right.
Chapter Five charts the creation of standardized and uniform bureaucracies managing pardons and scaffolds across British India. Unlike in England when the number of hangings declined during this period, the colonial state would continue to hang Indians in high numbers until independence. In a bloody context, I ask when did the state pardon or execute, and how? As the chapter demonstrates, the codification of criminal law did not initially produce clear rules about what rights were owed to the condemned. As I argue, the gradual development of standardized procedures and rules to manage the petition for mercy and the spectacle of the scaffold emerged in response to constant challenges from convicts and their supporters. The decisive turn away from the public scaffold in certain executions evidenced the abject failure of the state to deploy terror and mercy to cultivate fearful and obedient subjects in the age of Indian nationalism.
Discussions of the liberal international order, both inside and outside the academy, tend to take its necessity and desirability for granted. While its specific contours and content are left somewhat open in such debates, the idea that this international order is essential for global peace and stability is left largely unquestioned. What is more, the potential loss or end of this order is often taken to mean a return to anarchy, chaos, and disorder. In this essay, I question the presumed necessity and desirability of the liberal international order that most discussions of it seem to share. By rethinking the international order as processual, emergent, and grounded in the social and political contexts that shape its constitution and operation, I suggest that fears about the crisis of international order are less about international order itself and more about the loss of a specific order. This specific order, I argue, constituted in part through processes of racialization, is not so much a rules-based order of sovereign equality but rather an international order of White sovereignty that secures the domination and rule of some over others, of Whiteness over non-Whiteness. Recognizing the role of White sovereignty in the contemporary international order points toward a need to take seriously calls for abolition. Rather than signifying a return to chaos and disorder, the prospect and promise of abolition represents a call to break free from the constraints of the present order and reach into an as-yet-unimaginable future.
Hong Kong’s Handover from British to Chinese sovereignty in 1997 could have brought about rapid and momentous changes to Hong Kong’s language regime. Change, however, has for the most part been incremental, and much of the British-era’s language regime remains largely intact today, including the salience of English in many domains. At the same time, language policy changes did occur, mainly through the educational policy of biliteracy and trilingualism, which added Mandarin to the de facto English-Cantonese bilingual regime. However, nearly half-way through the transition period, Mandarin use has made few notable inroads in Hong Kong society, though there are signs that this may be about to change - perhaps drastically so. This paper analyzes the evolution of Hong Kong’s language regime from its unique perspective as a city connected to the global community like few others, and located between two state traditions - one marked by pluralist, laissez-faire capitalism, and the other by Communism and totalitarian state nationalism. Overall, this case study of Hong Kong contributes to our understanding of colonial legacies, competing mobilizations, incremental change, and multilevel governance as it helps to expand the STLR framework.
In “Divine and Human Plans of God in the Book of Isaiah,” J. Todd Hibbard follows the occurrences of a Hebrew root that means “to plan, advise, counsel” through the whole book, bringing to light one of its central themes. He shows how Isaiah’s theological rhetoric begins with a plan against Judah that involves foreign nations, but eventually undermines the plans of those nations as well. As with feminine imagery in the book, it is possible to identify a kind of episodic narrative running through the book in relation to certain themes in a way that animates the development of the book and holds it together despite its lengthy formation. The divine plans for Judah and nations eventually come together and culminate with the summoning of Cyrus as messiah and the appearance of the Persian empire.
Trials of Sovereignty offers the first legal history of mercy and discretion in nineteenth and twentieth-century India. Through a study of large-scale amnesties, the prerogative powers of pardon, executive commutation, and judicial sentencing practices, Alastair McClure argues that discretion represented a vital facet of colonial rule. In a bloody penal order, officials and judges consistently offered reduced sentences and pardons for select subjects, encouraging others to approach state institutions and confer the colonial state with greater legitimacy. Mercy was always a contested expression of sovereign power that risked exposing colonial weakness. This vulnerability was gradually recognized by colonial subjects who deployed a range of legal and political strategies to interrogate state power and question the lofty promises of British colonial justice. By the early twentieth century, the decision to break the law and reject imperial overtures of mercy had developed into a crucial expression of anticolonial politics.
Against both liberal narratives and postcolonial critiques, this article argues that sovereignty-as-responsibility – the theory of sovereignty embraced in the responsibility to protect (R2P) – is part of a problem space that emerged with decolonization, rather than the end of the Cold War. The internally displaced person (IDP), the vehicle which Francis Deng used to critique Westphalian sovereignty, had to be theorized against the rise of the postcolonial state. In recovering the questions motivating Deng we find a stark politics driving his work on IDPs and sovereignty. Against the claim that the heart of R2P is armed coercive intervention for humanitarian purposes, Deng used sovereignty-as-responsibility to promote a profoundly political critique of the colonial legacy and the postcolonial state, which was taken up by states of the Global South in debates on the ratification of R2P. Recovering Deng's work on IDPs and sovereignty-as-responsibility highlights R2P as itself a site of contestation, and offers a case for how ideas emerge ‘from below’ in global politics.
Why do some of the world's least powerful countries invite international scrutiny of their adherence to norms on whose violation their governments rely to remain in power? Examining decisions by leaders in Uganda, Sierra Leone, and Georgia, Valerie Freeland concludes that these states invited outside attention with the intention to manipulate it. Their countries' global peripherality and their domestic rule by patronage introduces both challenges and strategies for addressing them. Rulers who attempt this manipulation of scrutiny succeed when their patronage networks make them illegible to outsiders, and when powerful actors become willing participants in the charade as they need a success case to lend them credibility. Freeland argues that, when substantive norm-violations are rebranded as examples of compliance, what it means to comply with human rights and good governance norms becomes increasingly incoherent and, as a result, less able to constrain future norm-violators.
The 2022 war in Ukraine has produced the biggest virtual humor archive in the history of wars. We argue that Ukrainian war humor is a form of civic activism in the name of Ukraine’s sovereignty. This civic activism is defined by resistance, solidarity, vigilance, and dedication to victory. The war humor circulates locally as well as on a global stage. It expresses the government’s positions and the people’s voices and empowers those affected by this war. Ukrainian war humor documents experiences of war realities; provides moral commentaries and emotional and aesthetic interpretations; and articulates visions for the future of Ukraine as a sovereign European state.
This paper examines how Britain, through ‘gunboat diplomacy’ campaigns against so-called Arab pirates, overran the pre-existing Gulf suzerain system and became the predominant power in its waters. By filling a gap in the classical English School ‘international society’ expansion thesis, this article describes how and when political and ideational shifts in the Gulf allowed sovereignty to manifest into its present dynastic form. It argues British imposition of rules, norms, and institutions through a series of nineteenth-century Anglo-Arab treaties against Arab ‘pirates’ broke traditional conditions of divisible sheikhly authority to embed a new telos of sovereign indivisibility, facilitating indirect colonisation. Colonialism as an overlooked primary institution in the classical international society expansion story reinforced political inequality to create dynasticism to simplify colonial statecraft. The 1836 Restrictive Line was a central institution introduced by Britain to manage the transition from divisible to indivisible authority. Drawing from colonial archives, the paper argues that British control over cross-coastal movements through a Restrictive Line reinforced domestic sovereignty of British treaty signatories while weakening agency of maritime sheikhs outside the Anglo-Arab treaties framework. This unsettled traditional structures, transforming maritime tribal confederacies from participation to compliance and reconfiguring Gulf coastal security imperatives for treaty-signatory sheikhs from sea to desert.
This article contributes to broader discussions of early Latin American nation-making by focusing on the interplay among territory, sovereignty and human movement in nineteenth-century Central America. How did early Central American nations create sovereign spaces? And how did human movement in turn impact the meanings of bordered spaces? Drawing from constitutions, legal codes and archival documents related to the implementation of migration laws, the central argument of this article is that Central American governments typically treated free migration not as a threat to sovereignty but as an opportunity to reinforce sovereignty over the fixed spaces through which people moved.
Critiques of international economic law have attacked the tendency of transnational legal processes, including investor-state dispute settlement (ISDS), to undermine states' sovereignty. In response to these criticisms, many states have limited the power of investment tribunals by reasserting their sovereignty. There are reasons, however, to be critical of endorsing sovereignty, particularly in the context of global distributive inequalities. This is because assertions of sovereignty are normatively ambivalent in their effects: they can be used to entrench and naturalize the unequal assets held by each state, rather than to empower states to exercise their right to regulate. These potential tensions can be resolved if sovereignty is understood as a term that is used in many different ways. Critics of ISDS often conflate two distinct meanings of sovereignty: sovereignty understood as the right to be free from external influence, and sovereignty understood as states' right to regulate. Because states are constrained by differences in resources and capacity, withdrawing from ISDS cannot always secure the conditions for effective domestic regulation. Sovereignty understood as the right to be free from interference may even stand in the way of states' ability to regulate, by allowing states to gatekeep resources that were accumulated through historical injustice
This chapter considers the process by which an intelligence transfer of power took place in British India. This event ran parallel to, but was conducted in a very different manner and resulted in quite different outcomes from, the political decolonisation of South Asia. The chapter examines plans hatched by the British Security and Secret Intelligence Services to maintain an intelligence foothold in the subcontinent and unpicks how such schemes fostered a bitter and protracted struggle for bureaucratic power and influence between MI5 and MI6. It probes debates held at the highest levels within the British government over whether covert action should be undertaken in independent India, by whom, and to what purpose. It interrogates the efficacy of Indian agency in negotiating the security challenges confronted by an under-resourced post-colonial state, and that counterparts in the West (and the Eastern bloc) saw as a valuable Cold War prize.
This chapter offers an account of postmodernism. It begins by drawing a distinction between two broad approaches to the postmodern: one that outlines the contours of a new historical period (postmodernity), and another that places emphasis on finding new ways of understanding modern practices of knowledge and politics (postmodernism). The second part of the chapter examines how postmodern ideas entered international relations scholarship, and how ensuing contributions continue to reveal important insights up to the present day. Defining postmodernism is no easy task. Postmodern scholarship is characterised more by diversity than by a common set of beliefs. Add to this that the postmodern has become a very contentious label, which is used less by its advocates and more by polemical critics who fear that embracing postmodern values would throw us into a dangerous nihilist void. But while the contours of the postmodern will always remain elusive and contested, the substantial issues that the respective debates have brought to the fore are important enough to warrant attention.
This chapter introduces the principal actor in international relations: the sovereign state. First, it defines the state. Second, it explores the origins of the state in the transition from the medieval to the modern world. Third, it examines the concept of sovereignty, especially as it was articulated in early modern political thought. Fourth, it surveys different historical explanations of how the sovereign state triumphed over alternative forms of political society. Finally, it outlines some of the continuing debates about the modern state.
The first section of this chapter looks at how the two terms ‘migrant’ and ‘refugee’ came to be defined as distinct from each other in the context of the modern state. The second examines how states define and categorise refugees through laws that seek to contain and limit their flow. The third section is concerned with the consequences of limiting the definition of a refugee, which has led to an unequal burden between developed and developing states. The final section will canvass the various options presented to reduce the present imbalance where the vast majority of the world’s refugees eke out an existence in refugee camps in developing countries. Ultimately, this chapter seeks to demonstrate that the choices made by states in border protection become the key determinants of how refugees will be accepted. Adherence to international refugee law will not necessarily address all the problems associated with refugees, but nor will seeing refugees as unwanted intruders in contrast to ‘desirable’ migrants.