To save content items to your account,
please confirm that you agree to abide by our usage policies.
If this is the first time you use this feature, you will be asked to authorise Cambridge Core to connect with your account.
Find out more about saving content to .
To save content items to your Kindle, first ensure email@example.com
is added to your Approved Personal Document E-mail List under your Personal Document Settings
on the Manage Your Content and Devices page of your Amazon account. Then enter the ‘name’ part
of your Kindle email address below.
Find out more about saving to your Kindle.
Note you can select to save to either the @free.kindle.com or @kindle.com variations.
‘@free.kindle.com’ emails are free but can only be saved to your device when it is connected to wi-fi.
‘@kindle.com’ emails can be delivered even when you are not connected to wi-fi, but note that service fees apply.
This concluding chapter summarises and synthesises the book's main arguments on four levels: in relation to its five ‘divided environments’; with regard to what these cases, and the similarities and differences between them, suggest about the relations between water and (in)security; with reference to the broader significance of the analysis for understanding ecological politics and the study thereof; and on what, by extension, all this might tell us about the likely future conflict and security implications of climate change. Neither the eco-determinist nor liberal traditions, the book as a whole shows, are adequate to understanding water security and insecurity today, or to grasping the wide-ranging conflict and security implications of climate change; political ecology–informed premises are required instead. But what does this tell us about the coming landscape of climate change and conflict? The book closes by offering a series of tentative predictions.
This full-length chapter introduces the book’s central themes and approach to analysing them. It starts by summarising the current public and policy ‘common sense’ on climate security, and by showing that the evidence base for this orthodoxy is weak or, at best, contested: this establishes the book’s primary research puzzle. With this set out, the remainder of the chapter details the book’s approach to exploring this crucial but contested issue. It does this first with regard to epistemology and method – critiquing extant environment-centric, quantitative and discourse-centric approaches, and via that articulating an alternative ‘international political ecology’ framework for the analysis of environment–security relations. It does it, second, in substantive terms, explaining the book’s focus on water as a key variable in, and analogue for understanding, climate–security linkages. And it does it, third, with regard to cases, introducing the book’s empirical focus on the five ‘divided environments’ of Cyprus, Israel–Palestine, Sudan–South Sudan, Syria and the Lake Chad basin. The chapter concludes by briefly explaining how the remainder of the book is organised.
What are the implications of climate change for twenty-first-century conflict and security? Rising temperatures, it is often said, will bring increased drought, more famine, heightened social vulnerability, and large-scale political and violent conflict; indeed, many claim that this future is already with us. Divided Environments, however, shows that this is mistaken. Focusing especially on the links between climate change, water and security, and drawing on detailed evidence from Israel-Palestine, Syria, Sudan and elsewhere, it shows both that mainstream environmental security narratives are misleading, and that the actual security implications of climate change are very different from how they are often imagined. Addressing themes as wide-ranging as the politics of droughts, the contradictions of capitalist development and the role of racism in environmental change, while simultaneously articulating an original 'international political ecology' approach to the study of socio-environmental conflicts, Divided Environments offers a new and important interpretation of our planetary future.
Northern Nigeria is currently facing a twin crisis of both coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) and insecurity. They have made it difficult for the people to follow government containment efforts to control the pandemic and also have impacted on the socioeconomic and health aspects of the society. We have discussed on the impact of insecurity amid COVID-19 in Northern Nigeria. It is opined that, if the insecurity in Northern Nigeria is not tackled, it will expose the region to more escalation of cases and deaths. Thus, it is recommended that proactive steps should be implemented by all stakeholders concerned to tackle insecurity, particularly the government to revive the security architecture, provide an environment for training and retraining of all security personnel and enhancing intelligence gathering to pave the way for resolving this issue.
Changes in the labour market, high rates of working age poverty, major welfare reforms and more recently the Covid-19 pandemic have drawn renewed attention to income security. Existing research has identified the important role of relational support in helping people cope with low income, but less is known about the role of support for those coping with the potentially destabilising effects of income change which can affect people over relatively short periods of time. This article focuses on how relational coping strategies are utilised by those experiencing such income change. The data are drawn from a qualitative longitudinal study of the experience of income change and insecurity in 15 low-income households in the UK which included repeated in-depth interviews and weekly financial diaries completed in periods of up to five months. The article explores the relational strategies adopted by participants to ‘get by’ as well as examining how strategies are adopted by those on different levels of low income and with differing networks. The article argues that these strategies illuminate the importance of income change in the experience of low-income households, develop the concept of income insecurity, and provide lessons for policy in providing flexible and responsive support when income changes.
Crystal Parikh’s chapter on dissolution takes up narrative fragmentation to thematize outward-moving fictions of “interruption, isolation, suspense, and precarity.” Starting with Valeria Luiselli’s interviews with migrant asylum-seekers, Parikh argues that a defining feature of contemporary literature is its formal techniques of “dissolution and the fragment as vital aesthetic and stylistic forms to convey the splintering effect that global modernity in the twenty-first century induces.” From Luiselli to George Saunders’s short stories and novels by Celeste Ng and Jesmyn Ward, among others, Parikh argues that nineteenth- and twentieth-century narrative techniques have been remixed by contemporary authors who draw on realism and experimentalism to tell stories of ongoing and unresolved dislocation and vulnerability.
Hamilton Carroll considers shifting trends across nearly two decades of post-9/11 novels from early works grappling with the unrepresentability of terror to recent narratives by Susan Choi, Mohsin Hamid, Joseph O’Neill, and Jess Walter that depict the everyday experiences of racialized precarity in a period of perpetual warfare, nuclear proliferation, migration catastrophes, and neo-ethnonationalisms. Political turmoil and violence by state and non-state entities remain central to twenty-first century life, even as the events of September 11, 2001, have shifted from recent trauma to historical retrospection.
Chapter 8 considers implications of digital technology trends for issues related to insecurity and precarity. Rural and urban spaces are discussed in the context of digital technology trends. The chapter concludes with a discussion of implications of protest movements, such as #EndSARS in Nigeria, that illustrate ways in which digital technologies create digital communities and have an impact in contested spaces that exist around societal fissures, including intergenerational and other forms of conflict.
How Christian people have framed the meaning of violence within their faith tradition has been a complex process subject to all manner of historical, cultural, political, ethnic and theological contingencies. As a tradition encompassing widely divergent beliefs and perspectives, Christianity has, over two millennia, adapted to changing cultural and historical circumstances. To grasp the complexity of this tradition and its involvement with violence requires attention to specific elements explored in this Element: the scriptural and institutional sources for violence; the faith commitments and practices that join communities and sanction both resistance to and authorization for violence; and select historical developments that altered the power wielded by Christianity in society, culture and politics. Relevant issues in social psychology and the moral action guides addressing violence affirmed in Christian communities provide a deeper explanation for the motivations that have led to the diverse interpretations of violence avowed in the Christian tradition.
This chapter returns to white workers’ voices. Drawing on interviews with men who entered blue-collar work and joined the MWU before or during the Wiehahn reforms, it demonstrates the persistence of proud working-class identification, the presence of deep ambivalence around race and whiteness, and working-class resentment towards wealthy Afrikaners. This contradicts the simplistic racial tropes, naturalisation of ethnic identity, and denial of class in the Solidarity Movement’s official framing. At the same time, the union veterans display deep commitment to the Movement and its ideals in the face of the loss of past certainties, perceptions of social decline, personal vulnerability, and anxiety about the future they perceive. This sees them subjected to pressure from the leadership to manage Solidarity’s race- and culture-based membership on the ground. Together, the men’s counternarratives, ambivalences, and vulnerabilities demonstrate the specificity of blue-collar subjectivities and workplace experiences. In this way, the testimonies presented in this chapter expose the persistent reality of class otherwise not readily visible within the white, Afrikaner population, and provide striking insight into how white workers experienced and sought to negotiate the demise of the racial state.
This chapter examines how the situating of individuals and states in societal contexts holds implications for understanding the causes conflict and the generation of peace. It challenges the strict agent-centered state-centricity of traditionalist approaches and looks at the roles played by different societal constraints, norms, and processes at the international and domestic levels. I provide a discussion of the core assumptions of social constructivism and compare social constructivism’s approach to peace with the other major paradigms (and their subparadigms) assessed in this book. I consider how the rational default mechanisms of security studies and the realist or power political paradigms, which have dominated the discourse for much of the period of scientific study, have come to be critiqued. This will be followed by detailed discussion of the similarities and differences between social constructivism and liberal approaches, functionalism, English School rationalism, critical approaches, and cosmopolitanism. I assess the contribution of social constructivism to the transformation of conflictual relations between states and the social construction of peace.
Sadness and fear are usually considered as basic emotions. In society and in education, they are normally cast as undesirable, but also as partly unavoidable. This chapter examines sadness, fear, and anxiety in society and education. It argues that these feelings should not be judged as simply negative, devoid of value or positive function. On the other hand, they should be critically considered and explored, rather than simply accepted, in education and society. Neither good nor bad in themselves, feelings of sadness, fear, and anxiety can be righteous, functional, and normal, and interrelated with critical understanding. Yet they can also be problematic and pathological in other cases.
The association between how citizens perceive economic performance, insecurity, or corruption and how they evaluate the president varies systematically across Latin American countries and within them over time. In particular, while presidential popularity reflects these outcomes in the average Latin American country, survey data from 2006–17 confirm that the connection between government performance and presidential approval is generally stronger when unfragmented party systems or single-party majority governments make assessments of political responsibility easier. While these results suggest that the region’s citizens do not blindly blame the president for outcomes where political responsibility should be shared, they also remind us that there are many countries in the region where fragmented party systems weaken the conditions for effective political accountability.
Anchored on the global welfare regime literature, this article discusses three key themes: welfare regime change, the drivers of change and the implication of the regime change toward insecurity in Southeast Asia. This article focuses on welfare regimes in Indonesia, Malaysia, and Thailand mainly because these countries experienced high economic growth and were correspondingly affected by the 1997-Asian financial crisis. However, their response to the crisis differed due to their distinctive historical-colonial legacies. The article argues that the regimes shifted from productivist to a more inclusive regime partly as public health programmes reached citizens previously uncovered. However, the timing, pace and direction of welfare reform met social unrest, and fundamentally brought into the fore questions of ‘ontological security’. The article concludes that the three regimes cannot substantiate a shift towards ‘secure’ welfare regimes as they continue to rely heavily on family and community for welfare provision to overcome social risk.
In this chapter we develop our theory of the relationship between power-sharing institutions and democracy as “the art of the possible” in post-conflict states. Noting the challenging environment that actors confront following civil war, we evaluate the potential for establishing minimalist democracy in post-conflict states as well as the obstacles that inhibit the creation of democracy in its liberal or participatory forms. Power-sharing institutions help make the emergence of minimalist democracy possible, we argue, by providing former belligerents with the assurances necessary to play by the electoral rules of the game. We further identify two mechanisms via which power sharing helps foster minimalist democracy. The first, which facilitates democracy from above by constraining governments’ ability to abuse their citizens, centers on power sharing’s role in establishing the foundations for an effective system of rule of law. In terms of the second mechanism, power sharing facilitates democracy from below by providing for a more equal distribution of rights and freedoms across social groups.
In times of labour market insecurity and retrenchment of state support, low income families rely on friends and relatives as a safety net. This article explores the enhanced role of this ‘third source of welfare’ in light of these developments. It draws on qualitative longitudinal research to demonstrate how families’ situations fluctuate over two years and the importance of social support networks in hard times and periods of crisis. The research illustrates how social support is not necessarily a stable structure that families facing insecurity can fall back on, but rather a variable resource, and fluid over time, as those who provide such support experience changing capabilities and needs. A policy challenge is to help reinforce and not undermine the conditions that enable valuable social support to be offered and sustained, while ensuring sufficient reliable state support to avoid families having no choice but to depend on this potentially fragile resource as a safety net.
Chapter 5 investigates more stable forms of ordering the security arena. They are characterized by clearly voiced claims, hierarchized actor relations, and structured processes of security provision. Such ordering is commonly expected by the state but state practices often fall short of its narratives of stable ordering. Other actors also turn to stable ordering when they believe they are able to gain larger stakes in the arena. Actors can even resort to force when they have the means to press their claims. Stable ordering can create predictable security but it can also create organized insecurity.
My current interest in silence, gender, and power owes much to discussions with Marysia Zalewski over the years. Much of my work has focused on masculinity, gender relations, and gender hierarchies with a focus on security and development in conflict zones. More recently, I have begun to explore silence not as a sign of disempowerment, but as a powerful force that can be used in many ways. This approach enables a more multi-levelled understanding of silence and voice and their many interactions. It has much to tell the Global North, where we prize voice and often underestimate the power of silence.
Terror is always experienced subjectively, making it very difficult to assess its impact. Both the PRC in Sunan and the ROC in Taiwan engaged in strenuous actions to establish internal security and harden previously soft borders, and both deliberately used campaigns of fear to extend their reach deep into society. The PRC did so in Sunan with an openly named campaign: the Campaign to Suppress Counterrevolutionaries while the ROC in Taiwan engaged in a series of vicious police actions against suspected Communists and subversives. While the confirmed numbers of victims are elusive, in either raw numbers or as a percentage of the population, the Campaign to Suppress Counterrevolutionaries dispatched more victims in Sunan than the White Terror did in Taiwan. But in Taiwan, no social group was immune, and violent repression fell much more unpredictably than it did in Sunan.