The Introduction situates the nineteenth-century heyday of petitions and petitioning within a series of literatures. First, it places the book in the context of existing understandings of British political culture and debates about popular politics that have hitherto focused primarily on political languages and electoral culture, whereas the book redirects attention to practice and forms of political activity outside of voting. A study of petitions and petitioning furthermore challenges revisionist accounts that have emphasised the ‘closing down’ of popular politics or the growing regulation of subjects by the Victorian state. Second, it traces the tracing the genealogy of petitions within British history over the longue durée. While the was part of a common trend towards mass, collective, public petitioning across Europe and North America, the UK experience was exceptional. Third, the Introduction underlines the book’s intervention into a number of important debates within social and political science concerning collective action and social movements, theories and practices of representation, and trajectories of democratisation. Finally, the Introduction provides a chronological overview of petitions and petitioning during the long nineteenth century and an outline of the book’s structure.

The conclusion summarises the key findings of the book. Not only were petitions and petitioning a central, and hitherto, missing component of our understanding of UK political culture, but these practices contributed to the transformation of political culture. The remainder of the conclusion considers how a study of petitionary culture reconnects and pushes forward the currently fragmented field of nineteenth-century political history, before considering three major implications of the book for the wider historiography. First, it demonstrates that UK political culture was even more inclusive than previously thought, thereby qualifying the emphasis on the exclusivity of the political nation. Second, it charts how the authority and legitimacy of the Commons in particular, and Parliament more generally, was renewed by petitions, although it could also, on occasion, be challenged by petitioners. Third, it shows how the UK state was transformed by the continuous interaction with petitioners, and restores the place of the people within accounts of the relationship between state and subjects. Ultimately, petitions and petitioning were part of a broader social phenomenon that decisively reshaped the modern political culture of the UK.

A Nation of Petitioners is the first study of the nineteenth-century heyday of petitioning in the United Kingdom. Based on a study of over one million petitions from across the four nations that were sent to the House of Commons between 1780 and 1918, as well as archives of leading politicians, institutions, and pressure groups, the book explores how ordinary men and women engaged with politics in an era of democratisation, but not democracy. The book demonstrates the centrality of petitions and petitioning to mass campaigning, representation, collective action, and forging collective identities at the local and national level. From the early nineteenth century, the massive growth of petitions underpinned and reshaped the popular authority of the UK state, including Parliament, the monarchy, and government. In restoring the mass participation of ordinary people through petitions, this study challenges accounts that have stressed disciplinary or exclusionary processes in the evolution of popular politics.

In this final chapter, we revisit some of the central tensions that run through the whole book and ask ourselves the question: what is the future of the EU? And what is the role of law and politics in its governance? We will start by examining the main routes by which reform of the EU order occurs, beginning with formal Treaty change before discussing 'integration through stealth' and 'dis-integration'. In the remainder of the chapter, will discuss four key choices facing the EU in the near future: substantive choices (over which policies to prioritise), political choices (over how to respond to populism and contestation), constitutional choices (about how autonomous the legal order should be) and global choices (regarding how Europe should define itself in the wider world). The concluding chapter is meant to guide an advanced discussion on what the EU can and should like in the medium-term future.

As an alternative to structural and elite-centred approaches, this chapter employs a social psychological approach in examining the democratisation of China. Differing from institutional analyses in political studies, it focuses on the role of ordinary people in politics and democratisation. In addition, how ordinary Chinese people view democracy and the current regime is considered as a determining factor in democratisation and aspirations for its development. Based on accumulated empirical findings, this chapter constructs an integrated theoretical framework within which to analyse China’s democratisation. Guided by this framework, the political psychological impact of economic modernisation, the influence of political culture as well as popular perceptions of democracy are investigated in a Chinese context. The analysis indicates a possible trajectory by which democratisation could yet take place in China. Two idealised types of democratisation are also discussed.

Which psychological orientations form the cultural foundations of political regimes? To answer this question, I demonstrate as a point of departure that (1) the countries’ membership in culture zones explains some 70% of the global variation in autocracy-vs-democracy and (2) that this culture-bound variation has remained astoundingly constant over time – in spite of all the trending patterns in the global distribution of regime types over the last 120 years. Furthermore, the explanatory power of culture zones over autocracy-vs-democracy roots in the cultures’ differentiation on 'authoritarian-vs-emancipative values'. Against this backdrop, regime change happens as a result of glacially accruing regime-culture misfits – driven by generational value shifts into a predominantly emancipatory direction. Consequently, the backsliding of democracies into authoritarianism is limited to societies in which emancipative values remain underdeveloped. Contrary to the widely cited deconsolidation-thesis, the prevalent generational profile in people’s moral orientations exhibits an almost ubiquitous ascension of emancipative values that will lend more, not less, legitimacy to democracy in the future.

This concluding chapter argues that current ideas about post-narrativism and post-representationalism still build on narrativism and representationalism rather than rejecting them. They do so in particular in their radical move away from grand narratives that are associated with the construction of collective identities. Yet, as the previous chapters have shown, this position can go hand in hand with maintaining that historical writing can and should amount to an intervention in the social world and that it is meaningful for directing and informing a variety of democratic policy agendas. It is historical writing that keeps the future open and makes us suspicious of all attempts to declare an end to history. The ‘new’ histories that have been emerging over recent decades and which have been the subject of analysis in this book often see identification in the definition by Stuart Hall as the basis for their social intervention. They contributed to a growing self-reflexivity about the relationship of historical writing and collective identity formation and they have often taken their starting point from a body of highly diverse theories that have been discussed in Chapter 1 of this volume. The chapter recaps the arguments of the previous eleven chapters of the book and finishes with a reflection on how the struggle over and with history will continue in the future. Denying the existence of any whiggish progressivism, it charts the well-known fact that professional historians’ greater reluctance to commit to the construction of essentialised collective identities has gone hand in hand with the willingness of ‘amateur historiansߣ to do precisely that. This in turn has made it increasingly necessary for professional historians not to retreat to their ivory towers but engage with all essentialised forms of identity history. They need to become engaged and public historians who continue an ongoing struggle over the past in all human societies.

This chapter begins by summarising the development of the history of ideas out of which conceptual history emerged. It discusses in detail the founding figure of conceptual history, Reinhart Koselleck, and compares his approach to that of the influential Cambridge school, in particular Quentin Skinner and J. G. A. Pocock, and their ‘contextualism’. The bulk of the chapter is then dedicated to a discussion of a range of examples of how conceptual histories have helped to deconstruct a rainge of collective identities, including class, religious, racial and gender identities. In all of these areas we have seen an intense interest in linking the history of conceps with the study of emotions, social practices and the problematisation of the national container for historical studies. In particular the move to a transnational history of concepts has contributed in a major way to de-essentialising collective national identities but also transnational, i.e. European ones. Furthermore, conceptual history has been emphasising the importance of studying the translation of concepts into different languages and cultural spheres.

In its post-1932 legal history, the constitutional stability, Thailand has been seeking for, has been harshly convulsed by the conflict between the traditional concept of authority and political stability which underpins the so-called ‘Thai-style democracy’ (‘TSD’) and increasingly sturdy demands for liberal democracy and constitutionalism, culminating in ‘colour-coded politics’ which started in 2006. The conflict between the ‘Yellow’ and the ‘Red’ ideologies resulted in a number of military coups, installing the TSD and the abolition of electoral politics. Thailand’s constitutional graveyard can then be seen as constitutional saṃsāra—the cycle of repeated birth and death. Based on this saṃsāra metaphor, I ask: To what extent do the irresistible and continuous rise of liberal demands and the trends of constitutionalism, modernisation, and democratisation in contemporary Thai legal history challenge the TSD? In other words, I examine how ‘modern innovations’ challenge Thailand’s constitutional saṃsāra and the attempt to halt it, that is, the imposition of constitutional nirvana. I answer this question by assessing the competing theories of law and politics (normativism vs anti-liberal realism), the concepts of ‘institution’, and the concept of the state of exception. I also use Hans Kelsen’s and Carl Schmitt’s theories/approaches to law and politics which have been transplanted into the Thai soil to theorise my answers.

Chapter 6 on ‘democratisation’ continues to examine how public banks can function in the public interest, if not without contradictions. Looking at the cases of Germany’s KfW and Costa Rica’s Banco Popular, the chapter argues that their ways of democratisation support their institutional credibility, and hence persistence. In distinct but meaningful ways, the KfW and Banco Popular enable their societies to have a meaningful say over how these public banks function. In contrast to decarbonisation and definancialisation, however, democratisation has a more disproportionately self-evident public interest effect. Yet it is not a completed act wherein these public banks are democratised once and for all. Democratisation, too, is pulled between contending public and private interests in class-divided society within global financialised capitalism.

The afterword focuses on the surprising connections of a century of Chinese Communist Party (CCP) history to larger global developments outside of China, considering the potential future development of the Party, either towards more democratisation and power sharing, increasing focus on domestic challenges, or a new Marxist-Leninist world order with Beijing at it’s ideological center. The fate of international socialism is contrasted with the purges of both Stalin and Mao, which are shown to have led directly to the Sino-Soviet conflict from the late 1950s on. The lasting significance of the collapse of the Soviet Union for the CCP provides context for the increasingly close relationship between Xi and Putin, who share a mutual concern over Muslim separatism and demographic shifts within their countries. Connections are drawn between the more positive impacts of the Non-Aligned Movement of the 1950s and 1960s and the Belt and Road initiative, and darker history of global Maoism in Peru and Cambodia, with the latter spurring modernization following a successful Vietnamese intervention. The CCP’s long-standing difficulty of separating Party from ethnicity, particularly in its Southeast Asian allies, is contrasted with inspiration drawn from Japan and Korea in the post-Mao era and the legacy of falling regulation in global trade over the subsequent three decades. The afterword concludes with an exploration of the gradual end of China’s “peaceful rise” during the Xi era, touching on the daunting problems of a declining workforce, environmental degradation, and continuing wide income gaps which face the country’s leaders today, while also praising its pragmatic macroeconomic policies, impressive technological development, and openness to trade relative to the increasingly divided, insular, and unstable US under Trump.