By 1911 some Irish couples were limiting fertility. Marital fertility fell slowly after independence. The gap between family size in Northern Ireland and Ireland and between Catholic and Protestant families widened. The Irish Free State introduced legislation restricting access to information and prohibiting the sale and importation of contraceptives, legislation that reinforced Catholic teaching. Although similar legislation existed in other countries, it had much less impact than in Ireland. The near-universal practice of religion by men and women meant that Catholic teaching could be enforced in the confession box, and this teaching, combined with the valorisation of large families by Irish society, provided uncaring husbands with a licence to procreate, irrespective of the health or the wishes of their wife. Before the 1960s there was little information available about the ‘safe period’, a church-permitted method of regulating fertility, which was promoted by Catholic organisations in other countries. By 1961, despite marrying at a later age, Irish couples had the largest families in the western world, their fertility was seriously out of line with Catholics elsewhere.

This chapter takes some of Defoe’s satirical poems and pamphlets, including The True-Born Englishman (1701), The Shortest-Way with the Dissenters (1702), and A Hymn to the Pillory (1703), as starting points for a brief study in how Defoe’s writing and experiences reflected disputes over what today we would call matters of censorship or suppression of thought. Included here is an examination of the slippery concept of ’seditious libel’ in the period, Defoe’s sense of what ’freedom of speech’ and ’freedom of the press’ entailed or should entail, and how Defoe’s involvement in party politics and political controversy shaped his thoughts on the roles of the state and the courts in regulating political and religious expression.

This chapter examines the question of prior restraints and other limitations to artistic freedom, pointing to the lack of a precise definition of ‘censorship’. Which grounds of prior restraint are legitimate or necessary under international law? is there an obligation for States to ban exhibitions such as Mirroring Evil: Nazi Imagery or the exhibition Ode to the Sea displaying artworks made by prisoners from Guantànamo Bay? When can States legitimately restrict artistic freedom? And how do international bodies draw the fine line between illegitimate censorship, legitimate restrictions and regulation? The chapter discusses the problem of artistic expressions inciting to hatred and other types of incitement (negationism, revisionism and Holocaust denial), in light of international standards. It further offers a more detailed approach to the methodology of human rights bodies in defining limitations to artistic freedom (and more broadly balancing conflicting interests), including the problem of artists’ ‘duties and responsibilities’. Finally, it examines the responsibility of non-State actors for human rights violations, if any, in the case of private exhibitions and events that incite to racism, hatred or misogyny, as well as similar issues arising in digital arts, on the web and social media platforms.

People regularly advocate on behalf of their attitudes. They post online reviews of hotels and restaurants, they recommend new apps and movies to friends, and they share their opinions on political candidates and social issues. What drives advocacy behavior? In this chapter, we review a fast-growing literature on the antecedents of advocacy – including attitude strength, compensatory motives, perceived efficacy, emotions, attitude framing, and more – and we consolidate this literature into a set of core insights. In addition, we discuss two promising directions for ongoing work. First, when people advocate, what do they say or do? Second, what other actions do people undertake to advance their views (e.g., censorship)? We review the nascent literature on these topics and chart new directions for research in this area.

“Erotics” engages questions of homoeroticism and bawdy poetry, two interconnected themes that appear throughout the Persianate literary heritage and the tazkirah tradition but pose problems for modern literary historiographers. While pre-nineteenth-century Persianate writing abounds in frank, unabashed depictions of homoerotic sexuality -- the dominant literary convention for depicting love -- modernizers of Persianate literature adopt a Victorian-influenced approach that emphasized bashful silence about sexuality, particularly homoeroticism. As Persian literary historians were faced with making sense of the ribald erotic poetry at the heart of the tradition they wrote about, homoerotic conventions coalesced as objects of scorn and relics of the premodern world against which modernizing historiographers positioned themselves

Louise McReynolds considers what it was like for Chekhov as young writer amid the increasingly diverse readerships, publishers, and editorial boards of his time, and how his writing developed in response to the state censorship apparatus and to the media outlets, both popular and “prestige,” that constituted a newly emergent commercial press.

East Asia had incorporated Western music well before dodecaphony was introduced. Its foray into atonality and dodecaphony is unsurprising. Japan, as the first country to fully embrace Westernisation, played a major role. Developments of dodecaphony in China and Korea were connected to Japan through an active network of ideas, print media, and movement of people in the region. Despite their shared resources, however, wars and politics determined whether or not (and when) composers in different East Asian countries had the liberty to explore dodecaphony. China was close to developing dodecaphonic compositions before being stopped after the founding of Communist China in 1949. The post-Mao introduction of dodecaphony, led by Luo Zhongrong, was a late ‘arrival’. Japanese composers’ initial enthusiasm for dodecaphony did not gain in significance. Yoritsune Matsudaira and Joji Yuasa were representative. In Korea, led by Isang Yun and Sukhi Kang, serialism was employed thoughtfully by several generations of composers throughout their creative output.

This chapter defines serialism in terms of dodecaphonic technique, beginning with a discussion of the role of analysis in relationship to performance. Whilst Webern’s Variations op. 27 have been the subject of exhaustive analysis by other commentators, the present discussion takes a somewhat different approach, considering the interpretive insights gained by a study of sketch material. The composer’s drafts are examined in relation to the published score for their potential to enrich the performer’s perceptions. The second part of the chapter traces the movement to integral serialism in the post-war period, and the challenges of ‘pointillist’ scores with their profusion of agogic and dynamic marks, which leave seemingly little scope for interpretation in the traditional sense. The contributions of Boulez and Stockhausen to the piano repertoire are considered, and a discussion of the role of the interpreter in indeterminate scores of the period occupies the final section of the chapter.

This chapter introduces and discusses the approach of each body to deference and subsidiarity, and assesses how the differences may affect convergence and fragmentation. From the margin of appreciation (MoA), typical of the European Court, to the conventionality control (CC) of the Inter-American Court, the chapter investigates all the different shades of subsidiarity and deference and put them in a comparative perspective. Moreover, through specific examples, this chapter shows how different approaches may trigger fragmentation (such as in the headscarf cases) and how convergence on the level of deference and subsidiarity may, on the contrary, foster convergence (such as in defamation cases).

Chapter 2 explores the politics of history in wartime Venice, focusing on the processes of documentation and representation that articulated the meaning of war in official and popular accounts. It charts how the two state historiographers, Michele Foscarini and Pietro Garzoni, incorporated the war into the official narrative of the Republic and patrician image-making. It then provides a detailed overview of popular histories, with emphasis on the political and commercial imperatives that determined their publication. Finally, it considers the role of censorship and shows how official historiography became a site of contestation between competing elite groups. The chapter argues that state-sponsored and popular histories compel us to rethink the colonial conditions of the production of Venetian historical sources and the close relationship between historical discourse and overseas empire-building.

This chapter explores the politicisation of literature during the period of the Cold War. It argues that literature became a key coin in the cultural cold war, invested with the power to represent working-class subjectivity and class struggle by the Soviets, and construed as embodying and igniting individual liberty by the US. Literary writers and literature, during the cultural cold war, were both censored and funded as never before. While the Soviets took control of book production by both censoring and funding writers, the US pumped enormous sums of money into funding global literature deemed representative of individual freedoms. The literary dissident, stifled by the East and lionised by the West, was a key figure in cultural cold war politics. The chapter focuses on two very different kinds of writers, Stephen Spender and Doris Lessing, who were shaped by the conditions of the cultural cold war. Both writers viewed their literary writing in the light of the politics of the Cold War, and used their writing to explore the political issues of censorship, freedom, and dissidence.

Molière’s career was punctuated by episodes of polemic. In the twin contexts of an ideological quarrel concerning theatre’s morality and a commercial war between rival theatres, he confronted primarily two types of enemy: the dévots who condemned theatre in general and his rivals who took against his theatre in particular. His private life was attacked as well as his public one (as author, actor and company leader). He was sometimes condemned with disdain as the ‘best farce actor in France’, sometimes with dread as a ‘demon clothed in flesh’. Faced with plots and threats of censorship, Molière shone by his exploitation of these polemical episodes to invent new theatrical forms and confirm his supremacy. From Les Précieuses ridicules to Dom Juan, via L’École des femmes and Tartufe, his entire output can be seen to derive from a conflictual logic, whereby each new play is generated by the debates surrounding the preceding one, in a process of constant negotiation with the legitimising powers whose support he sought: the Parisian public and those with political power. Polemic was thus a driving creative force and laughter became Molière’s most fearful weapon in bringing down his rivals.

Chapter 10 shows how the “Tolstoi phenomenon” was perceived by members of the Russian Church, why they saw him as a major threat, and how Orthodox believers discussed various strategies for combating this new heresy. Earlier, the Russian church had been confronted by various sectarian movements among the common people, on the one hand, and increasing atheism among the intelligentsia and the upper classes, on the other hand. When Tolstoi stood forth as a religious teaching, he combined elements of both these currents, and was therefore perceived as a far more formidable threat than either of them. It was therefore incumbent upon the Orthodox to stem the spread of his ideas. Among the tools available in this struggle was censorship – a well-established institution in Russian society, but one that was a double-edged sword that could also have severely deleterious consequences. It was no small matter to censor the country’s indisputably most famous writer: Therefore, only the most offensive of Tolstoi’s religious writings were totally forbidden, while many others passed through the screening with only certain sections and expressions deleted. In consequence, to the reading public in Russia, Tolstoi’s anti-Orthodox message was made to appear far more innocuous than it actually was.

Chapter 5 begins with an overview of the ideology of the Chilean dictatorship (1973-1990). It then uses files from the secret police (CNI) and documents from the Ministry of Interior and the Ministry of Education to study several cases of censorship during the dictatorship. First, a secret police report on a book about torture in Chile published by Amnesty International in 1983. Second, a memorandum from Division of Social Communication that includes a Colonel’s criticism of a poem by Rubén Campos Aragón in 1976. And third, a thorough analysis, a “Sociological Appreciation,” of the transition to democracy written by a Captain of the Navy, in December 1988, right after Pinochet’s defeat in a referendum. In the first two cases, the focus is on how agents analyzed the language of the censored texts. In the third, on how language is used to characterize the political and social situation.