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This chapter traces the rise and fall of social rights in the French Revolution. In 1789, economic liberals proposed them, but failed to persuade the National Assembly to include them in its Declaration of Rights. Nevertheless, invocations of them persisted. Their advocates, however, imagined achieving them through the voluntary means of free markets and charity; the state might manage charitable endowments, but it was not to finance them with taxes. The latter prospect eventually gained ground by 1793. Still, the National Convention declared ‘society’ to be the duty-bearer of social rights in its new rights declaration, not the state. During the Terror (1793–4), officials frequently conflated charity and taxes in their efforts to finance social assistance, creating a sense of arbitrariness. Social rights, now associated with the Terror, were suppressed in the rights declaration of 1795. Henceforth, the Revolution’s fundamental problem of obligation was often recast as the problem of social rights.
Revisionist literature portrays a British counter-terror stretching across 1948–9, if not longer. This chapter shows how, in fact, counter-terror was ‘bureacratised’ in 1949, becoming far more controlled but also larger-scale, with ‘structural violence’ (slow-burn long-term reduction in life chances due to deportation, huts burned etc.) taking off as excess killings declined. Meanwhile, the insurgents tried, and failed, to establish main bases and larger forces. On failing, they switched to attempting to build multiple, local-based company-level forces, more indirect roots towards growing their strength. This sent incident levels soaring again. This chapter therefore revises the revisionist accounts, but just as importantly tells a cohrent story about the main-base strategy that the MCP hoped would set it on the path to victory, and its replacement strategy of building from more numerous, smaller base areas.
Stalinist repressions, epitomized by the Gulag, and grand industrialization projects warrant exploration of their implications for the social fabric of a place. I find social reproduction not only despite of but in some ways because of the communist industrial strategy. Whether inside or outside of the Gulag, Soviet industry appropriated both the hardware – the infrastructures of modernity – and the software – the human resources in pedagogy, medicine, research, public enlightenment, and engineering. In turn, social mechanisms of relationships of status and closure converged with the state’s developmentalist and survivalist imperatives. Unpacking these channels of resilience even when set against the most coercive aspect of Soviet planning provides additional credence to the argument that Russia had not been the purported melting pot that annihilated the society of estates. I first perform cross-regional statistical analysis to demonstrate that Soviet industries built on the tsarist industrial heritage. Next, I provide illustrative vignettes of appropriations in Samara’s consumer services, strategic armaments, and petrochemicals. I also discuss an aspect of development that has invited the naïve observer to assume a de novo approach to the Soviet project, namely the establishment of “brand-new” cities like Tolyatti. I then explore how even large-scale population movements followed the logic of social closure.
The first months of the Emergency saw chaos and uncertainty as both sides were caught off-guard and scrambled to organise. A combination of MCP policy of intermingling with rural villagers and British policy of exerting ‘pressure’ on the same villagers saw huts burned, people shot running and ‘excesses’ including twenty-four killed at Batang Kali. In effect, rural civilians were caught between MCP ‘terror’ (objectively, if not by intent) and British ‘counter-terror’ and pressure. Government, meanwhile, was gestating more positive measures, so that by the year’s end it was pushing states to start resettlement of villagers and was working with Chinese leaders in the MCA.
What was the canvas on which the Emergency was fought? This introduction and overview sketches in the population, the main players (British, MCP, UMNO, MCA), the importance of locality, the main phases and shape of the conflict and the historiography. In so doing it challenges some myths and sets the scene for later chapters to discuss issues of violence, harm and ‘winning hearts and minds’, and how and why insurgent strategy failed and counterinsurgent strategy ultimately succeeded.
The French Jacobins rose to power amid the tumultuous circumstances of the early First Republic, having to combat both legions of exterior enemies and dissidents who had long attended their own clubs. The Jacobins pushed their club network further than their contemporaries – establishing more than three thousand locals across France – but also proved unwilling to tolerate dissent amid wartime dangers. The moderates who led the Thermidorian coup soon turned against Jacobin Clubs, suppressing them in stages across 1795.
In her analysis of the rising prominence of recent short and flash fiction, Angela Naimou considers narrative brevity as an opening to geopolitical and temporal expansiveness in her chapter on “Short, Micro, and Flash Fiction.” Measured in major prize awards, sales, or downloads, short and short-short fiction have paradoxically thrived during the spatial and temporal conceptual expansions of, for example, globalization and the Anthropocene. Naimou identifies the techniques of short fiction representing planetary stories of migration, climate crisis, and evolutionary history in works by Teju Cole, Edwidge Danticat, Rachel B. Glaser, Viet Thanh Nguyen, and George Saunders.
Mass-casualty incidents (MCIs), specifically incidents with chemical, biological, radiological, and nuclear agents (CBRN) or terrorist attacks, challenge medical coordination, rescue, availability, and adequate provision of prehospital and hospital-based emergency care. In the Netherlands, a new model for Mass Casualty and Disaster Management (MCDM) along with a Terror Attack Mitigation Approach (TAMA) was introduced in 2016.
The objective of this study was to provide insight in the first experiences of health policy advisors and managers with a medical rescue coordinator and ambulance nursing background regarding the new MCDM and TAMA in order to identify strengths and pitfalls in emergency preparedness and to provide recommendations for improvement.
The study had a qualitative design and was performed from January 2017 through June 2018. Purposeful sampling was used and the inclusion comprehended health policy advisors and managers with a medical rescue coordinator and ambulance nursing background involved in emergency preparedness. The respondents were interviewed semi-structured and the researchers used a topic list that was based on the literature and content of the newly introduced model and approach. All interviews were typed out verbatim and qualitative content analyzing was used in order to identify relevant themes.
Respondents based their perceptions on large-scale training exercises, as MCDM and TAMA were not yet used during MCIs. Perceived issues of MCDM were the two-tiered triage system, the change in focus from “stay and play” towards “scoop and run,” difficulties with new tasks and roles of professionals, and improvement in material provision. Regarding TAMA, all respondents supported the principles (do the most for the most; scoop and run; acceptable personal risk; never walk alone; and standard operational procedure); however, the definitions were lacking clarity while the awareness of optimal personal safety of professionals was absent.
As there are currently regional differences in the level of implementation of MCDM and TAMA, this may pose a risk for an optimal inter-regional collaboration.
The conclusions refer to experiences of professionals in the Netherlands. Elements of the MCDM and TAMA were highly appreciated and seemed to improve emergency preparedness, while other aspects needed further attention, training, and integration in daily routine. The Netherlands’ MCDM model and TAMA will need continuous systematic evaluation based on (inter)national performance criteria in order to underpin the useful and effective elements and to improve the observed pitfalls in emergency preparedness.
The epilogue begins by offering a brief overview of the main arguments of the book before meditating on what Barragan (following Saidiya Hartman’s formulation) refers to as the “afterlife of gradual emancipation rule” in the Colombian Pacific. As she argues, the very essence of gradual emancipation rule—that is, the notion of gradated, scheduled “progress” amidst an ongoing state of racial terror—remains alive in today’s Colombian Black Pacific. This paradoxical state of progress and terror, Barragan shows, is nowhere more evident than in the current state of Chocó and the Pacific lowlands, the most marginalized and impoverished region in Colombia, with record levels of displacement and violence against civilians. She moves from the nineteenth century to the late 1990s, when the Colombian Pacific became the central site of powerful Afro-Colombian social movement mobilizations and ground zero of Colombia’s ever-shifting civil war.
This chapter focuses on some of the ways in which states and their citizens have sought to describe and identify terrorists and terrorism, and why they have adopted certain historical tropes and language in the process. Modern states have utilised a number of long-standing historical tropes as lenses through which to view the nature and threat of modern sub-state terrorism, in turn adopting corresponding historical narratives to condemn and counter terrorism. ‘History’ has therefore proved a useful tool in helping states legitimate counterterrorism policies. ‘History’ has also played a role in the scholarship of Terrorism Studies, with commentators looking to the past in order to differentiate between ‘old’ and ‘new’ terrorism. The historical evidence for the old/new terrorism thesis may be fragile, but the presentation of ‘new terrorism’ – characterised by religious fanaticism (notably Islamic extremism), irrationality and unlimited violence – has drawn heavily upon the historical trope of civilisation struggling against barbarism. Terrorists have become the paradigmatic new barbarians of our current political era. The wider cultural resonances of this linguistic association between barbarism and terrorism is important because, as Crenshaw rightly argues, language is not neutral. By using the language of barbarism in reference to terrorism, states are able to situate terrorists immediately within a deep cultural understanding of threat and the Other.
To analyze the cost of the terror attack in Nice in a single pediatric institution.
We carried out descriptive analyses of the data coming from the Lenval University Children’s Hospital of Nice database after the July 14, 2016 terror attack. The medical cost for each patient was estimated from the invoice that the hospital sent to public insurance. The indirect costs were calculated from the hospital’s accounting, as the items that were previously absent or the difference between costs in 2016 versus the previous year.
The costs total 1.56 million USD, corresponding to 2% of Lenval Hospital’s 2016 annual budget. Direct medical costs represented 9% of the total cost. The indirect costs were related to human resources (overtime, sick leave), revenue shortfall, and security and psychiatric reinforcement.
Indirect costs had a greater impact than did direct medical costs. Examining the level and variety of direct and indirect costs will lead to a better understanding of the consequences of terror acts and to improved preparation for future attacks.
This chapter re-examines the idea that the development of the novel was hampered by politics during the French Revolution and that literary production was mediocre and ill-suited to the new social order. It studies the shift in the literary scene after the storming of the Bastille and the role of writers in regenerating the nation before considering the propagandistic works of republican writers during the radical phase of the Revolution. The death of the radical leader Robespierre in 1794 resulted in a clear shift in literary activity and prompted a move towards setting novels during the early 1790s which denounce the excesses of Robespierre and his supporters. The chapter places particular emphasis on the under-researched Directory period (1795-99) which is marked by a vogue for the Gothic and for fiction by and about émigrés.
This chapter examines how establishment sectors, ranging from the right to the moderate left, responded to the rash efforts of radical left-wingers to replicate Lenin's revolutionary success in Russia in a wide range of countries. Fearful of Communism, status-quo defenders everywhere squashed these precipitous uprisings. For this purpose, they employed excessive violence and resorted to significant "overkill." This reaction was driven by cognitive heuristics, which inspired an overestimation of the extreme-left threat and which activated loss aversion and thus prompted a disproportionately drastic response. Going beyond repression, the reaction to this early riptide of left-wing revolutionary efforts included the emergence of fascism in Italy, which arose in direct struggle against leftist contention; and the imposition of authoritarianism in Hungary, which followed upon a failed "Soviet Republic." The chapter provides substantial analyses of these two cases and explains why different types of autocracy emerged in these two countries.
This chapter examines eighteenth- and early nineteenth-century visions of apocalypse regarding the future of black lives in the American body politic. It begins with readings of Jefferson’s fear of a black planet in Notes on the State of Virginia and Crèvecoeur’s depictions of racial terror in Letters from an American Farmer. The chapter then investigates the writing of an African American herald of the end times, Christopher MacPherson. The chapter reads the apocalyptic jeremiad of MacPherson’s pamphlet, Christ’s Millennium (1811), as a reparative response to the suppression of black voices and the annihilation of black lives.
On July 22, 2011, a car bomb blast in the government quarter in Oslo killed 8, injured 209 of the 350 employees who were at work, and destroyed 1700 of the 3500 work places in the ministries. Shortly afterward, the terrorist killed 69 adolescents and young adults and injured another 110 of the 495 survivors at a summer camp on an island outside Oslo, organized by the Youth League of the ruling Labor Party. The paper describes the two disaster models that were applied in providing the preventive and therapeutic psychosocial interventions: the company/organization model for the governmental employees and a combined community and organization model for the victims of the massacre and their families. Some of the findings from the longitudinal research and outreach programs that were conducted are reported.
After Napoleon was defeated by the Allies in 1815, a new European security culture emerged out of the remnants of war. The Allied occupation of France and a number of ambassadorial conferences brought forward a collective security system, implemented by the Allied Council and aimed at fighting terror in peacetime. The four great powers of Europe – the United Kingdom, Prussia, Austria and Russia – institutionalized and standardized a new form of security management during peace negotiations at the Congress of Vienna and the Paris Conference, exemplified by the efforts of the ministers of the four great powers to debate, transform and implement their security practices across Europe. In the fight against terror, state interest, new fortifications, police reforms and military strategies went hand in hand with diplomacy and international relations on a scale never seen before. This chapter describes how the history of the tumultuous time of post-Napoleonic peace is reconstructed in this book, considering not only the institutional history, but also the emotional aspects, as voiced by the main protagonists as they tackled the subject of terror and security in Europe and beyond.
The system of collective security had a significant bureaucratic dimension to it. The creation of an Allied security agency, the implementation of uniform passport procedures, and the censorship and banishment of persons deemed a threat to the new system of peace and security were met by resistance in occupied France. Hotbeds of radicalization arose, and even Wellington was personally threatened by the rising number of blacklisted persons, terrorists and exiles. The Allied Council had attempted to strike a balance between fighting terror and restoring harmony to post-Napoleonic Europe, but the scope and breadth of the ‘Allied Machine’ was beginning to be questioned. What was the nature and scope of the authority of the Allied Council, and should the ministers become a European police directorate?
After twenty-six years of unprecedented revolutionary upheavals and endless fighting, the victorious powers craved stability after Napoleon's defeat in 1815. With the threat of war and revolutionary terror still looming large, the coalition launched an unprecedented experiment to re-establish European security. With over one million troops remaining in France, they established the Allied Council to mitigate the threat of war and terror and to design and consolidate a system of deterrence. The Council transformed the norm of interstate relations into the first, modern system of collective security in Europe. Drawing on the records of the Council and the correspondence of key figures such as Metternich, Castlereagh, Wellington and Alexander I, Beatrice de Graaf tells the story of Europe's transition from concluding a war to consolidating a new order. She reveals how, long before commercial interest and economic considerations on scale and productivity dictated and inspired the project of European integration, the common denominator behind this first impulse for a unification of Europe in norms and institutions was the collective fight against terror.
This chapter offers a genealogy of the aesthetic categories ‘terror’ and ‘horror’ as they were constructed in eighteenth-century criticism. Drawing primarily upon authors such as John Dennis, Joseph Addison, Edmund Burke, Anna Laetitia Aikin, James Beattie, Nathan Drake and Ann Radcliffe, the chapter first establishes the common aesthetic and lexical ground shared by terror and horror early in the century, before tracing their increasing divergence during the formative years of the Gothic Revival. This aesthetic divergence, it is argued, is the culmination of a series of both explicit and implicit distinctions that consider various dimensions of fear, including the temporal, the moral, the degree of artifice, its relation to probability, and to gender. Critical discussion of these aesthetic categories is supplemented throughout by brief, illustrative examples from Gothic verse and fiction, some of which also expose the increasing politicisation of terror and horror in response to the French Revolution late in the century.
This chapter offers a contemplation on the symbiotic nature and interdependencies of the later works of Ann Radcliffe and Matthew Lewis, and their consequent reputations in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. Beginning with an account of how the critical tradition has tended to conceptualise the Radcliffe/ Lewis relation, the chapter focuses in upon a range of contemporary readerships that chose to read, compare and mention in the same breath the works of both authors, often without drawing any aesthetic differences between them.